


A Case of Twice-Mistaken Identity

by IndigoXsoul



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who RPF
Genre: F/M, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, This could get weird guys, non-established Mattex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-07-18
Updated: 2013-12-11
Packaged: 2017-12-20 13:19:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 31,139
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/887745
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IndigoXsoul/pseuds/IndigoXsoul
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alex gasped and shot up, springing to the edge of the bed so quickly one would think she’d woke up to see a spider on the left-hand pillow and not a fairly attractive, semi-naked man. She clutched at the sheets, pressing them to her chest as a tiny shriek escaped her throat.<br/>Matt Smith was in her bed. Matthew Smith was in her bed, and they were both half-naked. How much had she drank last night?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Wrong Side of the Bed

**Author's Note:**

> This has been bouncing around in my head for a long time. Updating will probably be irregular, but I'll update often, don't worry. Oh, and this is really stupid and I wrote this while half-asleep, and it's a dumb idea that sprang out of a randomly generated prompt. But hopefully you guys like it. I've read the other Fandom/Canon crossovers and I liked them too much, so I decided to write my own.

The first thing she registered was the pounding headache. The second was the press of firm, hard planes of a male body at her back and a leg slipped between her own. She thought the latter must be some sort of lingering dream and she chased it, forlorn as the feeling - the stark reality of an arm slung over her side - only served to wake her further. Well, it was that and the headache. As she woke, the night before came back to her, belling out in a tangled haze: the nightclub, the throbbing beat, the twist of bodies and the drink - the little voice in her head reminding her that she, a fifty-year-old, should not be going out like this with her twenty-something co-stars.  
Another voice pointed out that Matt wasn’t twenty anymore, but thirty. She shoved that thought away.

Matt.

It was then that she heard the soft greeting whispered into her ear in a deep timbre that she recognized immediately.

“Good morning, dear.”

Alex gasped and shot up, springing to the edge of the bed so quickly one would think she’d woke up to see a spider on the left-hand pillow and not a fairly attractive, semi-naked man. She clutched at the sheets, pressing them to her chest as a tiny shriek escaped her throat.  
Matt Smith was in her bed. Matthew Smith was in her bed, and they were both half-naked. How much had she drank last night?  
He sat up slowly, gentle fingers brushing her arm, blue eyes filling with worry. “What’s wrong?”  
Pulling back and jumping up from the bed, Alex took the covers with her, more or less waddling and stumbling over them in her haste to find some clothes. She wrenched open the dresser drawer and rummaged through its contents, eyes widening as she realized that absolutely none of the items in the dresser were hers.  
Matt was getting out of bed now, walking toward her, and she spun - for the first time seeing the room. The walls were a faint creme, not the color of her bedroom walls. The dark blue coverlets that were now wrapped around her were a contrast to the eggshell ones she had at home, and the tweed jacket draped across a settee in the corner wasn’t lost on her eyes either.

This wasn’t her room.

"River?” She didn’t register the question until the second go. “River, what’s wrong?”  
Her eyes snapped back to Matt and she realized. It must be some kind of stupid joke he was playing. “Matt, this isn’t funny. Where are we and where are my clothes?”  
She watched his forehead wrinkle as he stood there in the middle of the room, halfway between the bed and her, unsure if he should go forward and not wanting to back away.

“What?” He looked so confused and oh, he was a brilliant actor, she had to admit. “You’re in the TARDIS,” he continued, drawing out his words with utmost care, “I picked you up last night.”

“I beg your pardon?” She stopped right there, mouth dropping open in disbelief. “Look, Matthew, I like you, I really do, but I was sodding drunk last night and that doesn’t give you the right to bloody undress me and stash me away in some hotel room so you can have a laugh with your friends. I’m damn well fifty and you’re thirty,” she hissed, “this isn’t Uni.”

She had to give him points for having the decency to flinch. Alex snatched a set of clothing from the dresser, slipped them on, and then stormed out the door.  
She had somehow thought him so much more mature than this - than to pull such a childish prank. Especially on her. Perhaps if it had been to Karen it wouldn’t have been so bad. Karen was his age, more the age for such things and Alex so painfully wasn’t anywhere near the right age for this kind of thing to be appropriate anymore. She wasn’t amused by this in the slightest- she was hurt and furious.

Alex was just starting to think that this was an awfully long hotel hallway when she burst into what could be none other than the TARDIS control room. That strange-shaped panel was there, littered with levers and scattered with buttons as she knew it to be, and there were the peculiar walls with their inset circles and lights. The floor was glass. So that was the joke? Bring her to the set on their day off and try and convince her that the Doctor was real? Oh, please!  
Alex rolled her eyes and strode across the room to the doors.

When she flung them open, she froze, smacked in the face with a blast of icy air and a stupendous view. A gasp forced from her lungs, her nails scratching the frame as stars, literal stars burned behind a curtain of a million colors that lit up a shimmering nebula. The TARDIS hung in the air, twirling ever so slightly like a mobile suspended from a string. A chill coursed down her spine and her whole body went taut, cold, then hot, her mouth turning to sand and her throat constricting as she stood there in the doorway.  
Trembling, she fell a step back, and behind her she was vaguely aware of Matt- or whoever he was, rushing down the hall after her. She was, in fact, in space: deep space. Every possible, coherent thought was strangled by the view of the Universe spread out before her eyes. And she felt small.

A hand became known on her left shoulder, shocking her in that touch so much she jumped. Matt’s- no, not-Matt’s - the Doctor’s? hand pulled her away from the door, prying her fingers from it and taking them in his huge, cold ones. Cold. Matt’s hands were never cold. And that stupid voice in the back of her head said something about Time Lords running on a lower body temperature, but no, that was ridiculous. He couldn’t be the Doctor. She fought to swallow through the sudden dryness of her throat and blinked, not realizing until now that her eyes had become glassy with confused tears. The salt left tracks on her cheek as one broke free and she turned, focusing on the concerned, disconcerting face now just mere inches from her own.

“Where am I?”

“I told you, you’re in the TARDIS, River. It’s okay. What’s wrong, hm?” he looked so worried and she irrationally wanted to slap him for it.  
She snatched her hand away from his grasp. “Stop it?”

“Stop what?”

“Calling me River. I’m not River.”

He took a breath, clasping his hands together and wringing them as he looked at her. “Ok.”

Alex snorted, rubbing her forehead. “And now you’re just patronizing me.”

“What would you like me to do, dear?” he seemed so eager to please in such a ridiculous way and now Alex was upside down, inside out, confused and she felt stupid for not knowing anymore if he was Matt or wasn’t. What would she like him to do? “Tell me how I got here.”

“You were trying to get into some flat in Cardiff and I came by and asked you if you were alright, and you were, well, very drunk, Ri-” he paused and bit his lip, correcting himself,

“Dear, and I didn’t want to leave you alone. So I brought you back in the TARDIS and you fell asleep on the jumpseat.”  
She couldn’t think of anything to say to that. Mostly because she couldn’t prove his story not to be true. She then looked down at the clothes she was wearing. “But I woke up- with no clothes.”

“You had clothes,” he huffed rather childishly and she gave him a withering look. Barely. He took a breath, looking uncomfortable. “I-I helped you get out of them because I didn’t think it would be too comfortable, you know, sleeping in your clothes.”  
Alex pinched the bridge of her nose. “I want you to take me back, Doctor.” Even after years of saying that name it felt foreign and out of context on her lips.

“Well, first,” he took her hand again, squeezing it with a charming smile that succeeded in melting her. “If you’re not my wife- and- and now that I hear you speak more, I don’t think you are. There’s something different about you. And I’m terribly sorry. It’s a horrible mistake, I always make such a mess of things-” he stopped short and collected his thought, blowing out through his mouth. “What’s your name? I mean, it’s only fair -considering-” he paused, “Oh, god, River, what if she thinks that we- you know? And, and I don’t- I just, I thought you were her and I never would’ve gotten another woman’s clothes off without her permission.” He ran a hand through his hair. “Names, right. Names.” He collected his thoughts again. “What’s your name?”

“Alex,” she whispered, watching him warily, “Alex Kingston.”

“There,” he smiled that smile that Alex somehow instinctively knew wasn’t Matt’s, but the Doctor’s - and she looked into his eyes and saw the timeless age there and it terrified her. “There,” he continued, relaxing after his momentary freak-out, “Isn’t that better? That’s better, I think. A proper introduction is always a good thing. Hello, Alex,” he said quite civilly, considering how they’d started off, “I’m the Doctor.”

Hearing him say it was somehow so much weirder than she’d expected. There was a keen difference about him as he ran a nervous hand through that flop of hair. She could see Matt and everything he made the Doctor and yet there was a something beneath that, a disturbing layer of soul that marked this man as his own. It was this notion that made her push away all thoughts of meeting River Song.

“I’m sorry about all of that,” he said finally, breaking into her thoughts. “You just- you look so much like my wife,” a measure of unfathomable sadness later, “I thought you were River. I was wrong.”

Swallowing, Alex looked around her, wrapping her arms around herself. “Does your ship really travel in time, then?” Half of her mouth twitched upward in a well-used partial smirk and her voice dropped to that breathy whisper. “Next stop everywhere?”

He looked as if he wasn’t sure whether to be excited or scared and confused. “How do you know that? How could you possibly know that?”

It rolled off her tongue as if she were acting a scene: “Spoilers.”

He stood there like a scared rabbit who’d seen a ghost. Alex watched as his adam’s apple bobbed visibly and he leaned on the console, staring at her. When he asked: “Who are you?” she was hit with an incredible, ironic sense of deja-vu.

Biting the inside of her cheek to avoid answering too quickly, she crossed the room slowly to lean next to him against the console, body still trembling with the aftermath of her fright and her mind spinning with confusion and new ideas and oh, this was mad! Perhaps she was mad, but that didn’t stop her uncontrollable mouth from rambling on.  
“I think- well - I think that I’m... I don’t know,” she paused with a sharp laugh, shaking her head, as she realized that was a stupid answer. “Bless, what am I saying? This sounds insane, but I’m an actress - I play River on a show called Doctor Who. I thought you were Matt,” a sidelong glance, “he plays you. And... up until now I thought- I still think - I’m really confused, because you’re not real.”

It was a horrible way of putting it and she held her breath, waiting for his reaction, body tense. Nervous fingers traced the rim of a lever she didn’t recognize. It was insane. However, a glimmer of light dawned behind his old eyes and he looked as if he believed her.

“No wonder she was so upset flying through the vortex last night.”

Alex didn’t wait to consider it strange that she knew who he was talking about. “The TARDIS, you mean.”

He made a small noise of assent and spun, bracing both hands on cold metal, staring down at the array of buttons. “Of course, an alternate Universe. Anything’s possible. I suppose there must be a universe where... where River and I aren’t real and we have doppelgangers who play us in a show on the Telly.” Hearing him say it made it sound horrid. “I must’ve fell in, or-” he paused, “Or the barrier’s the thing that fell.” His eyes shot up to meet Alex’s and he swallowed. “I need to find my wife.”

“I need to get home.”

Somehow it felt like the opening to one of Steven’s episodes and it was giving her a headache. Alex wanted to know that she wasn’t trapped in a Universe where everyone thought she was the woman that murdered the Doctor. She wanted to go home and see her daughter in LA and get annoyed with Matt when he flirted just a bit too much. This was strange and unknown and frightening and she didn’t like it one bit, and yet there was this taste of adventure filling her mouth that she couldn’t understand.

“Help me find River and I’ll take you home,” the Doctor bargained. “We need to fix this.”

How could she help him? And yet- that boyish grin spread across his face -and how could she resist that? Sod it, she was fifty, but this could either a really weird dream or the adventure of a lifetime and she knew that she would regret it for the rest of her life if she said no. So, she found herself nodding once.

“Okay.”

Alex watched as he trotted around the console, calling, “Throw that lever, will you? Ah- that one, the big red one, yes.” She obeyed him, a rush spreading up her spine as the TARDIS roared to life beneath her fingers. There was no imagination needed this time round. The Doctor gave her a smile and threw the flight lever, and the glass floor lurched beneath them. She gripped the console, considering this the strangest thing that had ever happened to her, and knowing that there was no turning back now.


	2. I Don't Exist? Since When?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> River whirled when she recognized the voice, her face lighting up and the tension rippling away from her body. A happy grin bloomed across her face as she recognized the ginger hair, skin-tight jeans, a rather hideous top and lipstick an alarming shade of red: definitely her mum.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Second chapter is up! Sorry this took quite a while, I'm a bit of a perfectionist and my muse was being stupid. But it's here now, and I'm quite happy with it, so I hope you guys like it too. :) Thank you so much for all the lovely reviews of last chapter!

It was too early for this: too early to be hiding a body, River thought as she dragged the corpulent mass through the alley, nose wrinkling as she looked around for place to stash it. She knew it’d be found eventually, but considering that it was from another time and place entirely, it would be impossible for anyone to link it back to her. Which was good, because she’d prefer not to land herself back in Stormcage for yet another murder.

She was just stuffing it down a handy drain when she heard someone stop in the mouth of the alley. She gave the body one last shove and then stood, dusting her hands and reaching for the gun strapped to her hip. Kicking the gutter closed and calculating the distance and location of the person, she aimed and said cooly,  “I would suggest that you walk away.”

“A-Alex?”

River whirled when she recognized the voice, her face lighting up and the tension rippling away from her body. A happy grin bloomed across her face as she recognized the ginger hair, skin-tight jeans, a rather hideous top and lipstick an alarming shade of red: definitely her mum.

“Amy, darling!” She holstered her pistol with a flourish and walked over, throwing her arms around her and hugging her tightly. “Don’t worry about Elvis. He’s down the drain now, quite literally. Our little secret, hm?”

No ‘hello’, no ‘I’ve missed you, River’, not even a ‘who the hell are you?’, there was just a confused weakening of the arms around her and a concerned: “Are you feeling okay?”

It was rather disappointing, really. She hadn’t seen Amy since she’d turned up in the Pond’s garden after the Byzantium and she would have liked a proper hello. River frowned and pulled back, looking Amy up and down and frowning at how drawn her mother’s face seemed. “Yes, why?”

“It’s _Karen_ ,” was the disturbing response, “unless you’ve taken to calling me Amy, like Matt calls me Pond,” she replied with a small frown, looking up at her and crossing her arms.

Now, this was perplexing. First of all, River hadn’t the faintest clue who Matt was - and second of all, this was Amy, not Karen- whoever the hell Karen was - and Amy had no reason to try and convince her otherwise. She decided to go with her first question, the one she felt she could probably handle the answer to. River’s eyes narrowed and she looked past her toward the street, as if there were somehow an answer there. “Who’s Matt?”

“Okay, first of all, could you explain why you’re walking around with a nicked prop gun and stashing a body in a drain?” she demanded, Scottish brogue rolling off her tongue.

“Darling, you should know by now I never carry guns just for show,” River unholstered her pistol, holding it out and weighing it in her hands, feeling the reassuring, grounding press of cool, slick metal against her palm. “Genuine article, Amy.”

Amy blinked at it and shook her head. “Are you trying to prank me or something? Get me back for last night, you know, dragging you around? Or are you just really sloshed? I mean, I know you said that you were a cheap date, but blimey, Alex, this is just terrible.”

River’s eyebrows flew to the top of her head, her forehead pinching as she stared at Amy. “Alex?” She looked around again and put her hands on her hips. “What are you talking about?”

“You’re Alex. You know, crazy hair, dirty sense of humor, says inappropriate things on talk shows and has the default setting of flirt around Matt?” she snipped back, rolling her eyes.

“Well, I’d say most of that is spot on, except that I flirt with everyone and I’m not Alex.”

“Yes you are,” she replied emphatically, and honestly this was getting a little irksome.

River pinched the bridge of her nose. “No, dear, I’m quite sure I know my own name. I’m River Song.”

“Okay,” Amy took a breath. “Well, then. Okay.” She blinked rapidly, looking around. “How about we take a walk.” She started out toward the street, and River was obliged to follow her. They walked  down the street, and River was noticing for the first time that things seemed... different. This was hardly Leadworth, it bustled too much for that, nor was it London where she’d meant to land. The skyline was different. She cursed in her head in Gallifreyan. Honestly, this kind of thing happened to the Doctor, not her!

The redhead led her up to a small flat complex, one River didn’t recognize, and let herself in. “Okay, Alex, this is your flat, it’s where you live. And I hope to God you remember that because the press is going to have a field day if you have amnesia or some crap like that,” she replied, walking through the hall and helping herself to a beer in the fridge.

River looked around. She disliked the colors - too bright, not to her taste. There was an easel with a charcoal sketch there - a rather good one - and she walked over to study the work. Skillful lines were shaping up to be a rather fantastic sketch of a little girl with a button nose and a fair amount of curls. She vaguely heard Amy calling someone on her phone in the kitchen, a whisper about a body, as River’s eyes scanned through the pictures on the wall. Many were of that same little girl and there were a few of her with some man who definitely wasn’t River’s type. She almost forgot that this somehow was supposed to be her flat.

She swallowed when she saw a picture of herself (well, herself with rather horrible fashion taste, what was she wearing?) with the girl from the drawing, and it was then that she realized the resemblance. Her throat thickened. River did want children, if she thought about it hard enough, but she knew that between her life and the Doctor’s - there was no way that would ever be possible, which was why the woman staring back at her from the picture frame couldn’t be her, couldn’t be future her, and somehow that hurt much more than River meant to allow.

“So, the Moff is coming over in a few minutes to talk to you-” Amy paused in the doorway and before River had time to wonder who ‘the Moff’ was and what self-respecting being would call himself that, Amy asked, “What’s wrong?”

She took a ragged breath, realizing her eyes were wet, and she hurriedly blinked back tears before forcing out a bright smile. “Oh, nothing, darling. I just - um- I’m not Alex. You’re not Amy, are you?”

She- Karen? Was that what she’d called herself? rolled her eyes and popped the top off of the beer. “Oh, now she realizes. Yeah, I’m Karen, Karen Gillan, kinda your co-star.”

River stopped her there. “No- no, You’re not. I’m not her. I can’t be her, I don’t have kids.” She nodded toward the picture, wrapping her arms tightly around herself.

Karen crossed the room and flounced onto the sofa, carelessly draping a leg over the side like she did it every day and shook her head. “C’mon, Alex, she’s the light of your life. Don’t tell me you don’t remember her either.”

It was like being slapped. River sat down hard onto the lounger and blew out through her mouth, running a hand through her hair. “Shut up, Karen.”

That produced an awkward, heavy silence and River considered apologizing, but thought better of it. Karen didn’t understand that she wasn’t Alex, and River couldn’t really blame her. There was no way that she could expect her to, not when they clearly looked so much alike. River made a mental note to ask her about the ‘co-star’ issue and the comment about Matt calling her ‘Pond’ later.

She was honestly still trying to figure out what was going on. Had she tumbled into another Universe? She knew things like that were possible, but she never really thought it’d happen to her. Yet, she must have - and that opinion was only solidified when shuffling feet filled the corridor she saw her dad - or rather - a man who looked exactly like her dad trickle in through the doorway on the heels of a man she’d never seen before.

“Alright, Alex, tell me what’s going on,” the strange man sat down on the chair opposite her like he owned it, and River merely blinked at him.

“I’m not Alex. I’m River,” she replied firmly, holding out her hand, “River Song, Archaeologist.”

“Oh,” he glanced at Karen, and Alex presumed this was ‘the Moff’, she’d mentioned. The expression on his face was hard to place. She couldn’t tell if he was about to cry or about to laugh or just genuinely concerned for her wellbeing. The Rory-lookalike was looking at her with that same traumatized expression that her dad had whenever he was worried about her and it hurt. So, she addressed him first to get it off her mind. “Not Rory, I presume?”

“No,” he said slowly, mouth forming an ‘o’ and the skin around his eyes tightening. “I’m Arthur.” He was the first to call her by her name, holding out his hand for her to take, “Arthur Darvill. Good to meet you...River.”

River took his hand, giving it a shake and knowing he just thought she was his friend - Alex- and was humoring her. Nonetheless, she appreciated being called by her own name again.

“She’s not actually River, you moron,” Karen huffed from behind him.

Arthur rolled his eyes. “Yes, Kazza, I’m aware. But I’m trying a little something called ‘tact’, I know you don’t comprehend the meaning of the word, but that’s okay. I don’t expect you to.”

The corners of River’s mouth twitched as she heard Karen’s exasperated sigh from behind her. She then looked up at Arthur, giving him a fond smile, “Definitely not Rory.”

“Right, thanks for that.” He sat down on the couch next to her.

“Oh, and I texted Matt too, the idiot’s supposed to be here in a few minutes,” Karen said, checking her watch, “And we can get started ‘splaining then.”

“Good, because I would really like an explanation,” the Moff said slowly, eyeing River with an unsettling stare that seemed to say: _I know everything about you._

A few minutes later, the door opened again and there came a rather loud bump and a low curse in a deep, timbre voice that caused River’s breath to hitch in her throat. Arthur noticed her discomfort. He patted her on the shoulder as, presumably, Matt ambled through the doorway, shutting the door behind him and somewhat limping over to them.

“Kaz said something’s up?” he looked at the group of them, eyes lighting on River and lingering for a moment, and oh, it hurt. He wasn’t the Doctor. Not in any way. His eyes were young and the Doctor had a more fluid gait and there was no bowtie or tweed and _was that a bowler hat?_

Well, apparently a penchant for ugly hats lingered across parallel Universes like a persistent virus.

She swallowed as he took a seat with them and then looked at her, eyes filled with something akin to cold terror. “Alex, you ok?”

It was intimidating looking around the room of concerned faces that were so familiar and yet so not. Karen broke the silence first, blurting out, “So, tell him about the body, and the fact that you remember absolutely nothing.” She glanced at the group, “And I promise this isn’t a prank. It isn’t a prank!”

River took a breath, steeling herself for Matt’s reaction - because somehow his would be the hardest to handle, she knew. “I’m River Song, darling, not Alex,” she said quietly. “And-” she glanced at Karen, “I was not hiding a body.” She shot the woman a lethal glare and hoped she’d drop the subject. She hardly thought that the group could handle the idea of her shooting Elvis Presley dead.

When she turned back to Matt, the look on his face hurt so much she rather wished she were Alex. His entire expression fell and a hint of fear crossed his face, and then it was replaced with a flicker of realization and a horrible, blank look. “Really, Alex? I thought you would have the decency to realize when a joke just isn’t funny anymore.”

“That settles it,” the Moff stood, fishing a phone from his pocket. “I’m calling your doctor.”

“Could you get me the Doctor, while you’re at it?” she asked with a twist of a crestfallen smirk. He only replied with pursed lips and by punching in a number to his phone as he walked to the hall to make the call. Matt stood suddenly, getting up to pace into the kitchen and Karen soon followed him, leaving Arthur and River alone in the unfamiliar living room.

She played with her hands, rubbing her arm nervously as she looked around, hearing Matt hiss at Karen, “Really, Karen? Really? This isn’t funny! I was genuinely worried about her!”

“It’s not a prank, Matt, not unless she’s pranking us!” Karen snapped back at him through the doorway, right on his heels to the fridge.

River chose to tune out the rest of the conversation. He’d looked so disappointed in her, and she could never bear that look - not even from the Doctor’s doppelganger whose name was Matt. She looked down at her hands, flinching a little. That look he’d given her was all too similar to the look that the Doctor had given her on the pyramid. You embarrass me.

“She does that, y’know, er- you do that.”

River jumped and turned to look at Arthur, startled that he spoke, and  swallowed. “What?”

“When you’re worried, you can’t keep your hands still,” he nodded toward where she fidgeted and River stilled her fingers immediately.

“I’m not her.”

He fell quiet again and she liked it. It wasn’t an awkward silence like she’d had with Karen, just a comfortable one. He was letting her be and for that she was extremely grateful. River sighed, reaching into a pocket for a small book she kept on hand with her to read. She looked at the page, not really reading the text, simply too nervous for her mind to focus, however much she needed the distraction.

There was that burning sensation in the side of her head of someone reading over her shoulder and she glanced up to see Arthur looking at her.

“You can read that?” he asked suddenly, swallowing. He had gone very, very quiet, with wide, bothered eyes, his face pinched.

River nodded. “Yes, why?”

He peered at the small font and then up at her again, at a loss for words. Then, he demanded: “Read me a section.”

She bit her lip before turning, reading off a short paragraph. It was the history of a small planet on the outer rim of the Universe. The room became quieter and quieter the more she read until they were enveloped in oppressive silence and she stopped, looking up at him.

Arthur stared at her very hard, trying to decipher something. He then snatched the book out of her hands, found the paragraph she’d just read, read it for himself, and his adam’s apple bobbed.

“I believe you,” he whispered. River couldn’t begin to describe the relief that hit her, belling out in waves at the quiet statement, “Alex wouldn’t have been able to read that without her reading glasses,” he continued, “You’re not her, but you can’t be River Song. So who are you?”

She raised an eyebrow at him, more than a little put out by his question. “And why can’t I be River Song?”

“Because she doesn’t exist. She’s a fictional character on a show called Doctor Who.”

And for once, River had absolutely nothing she could say.  


	3. This is Getting Out of Hand

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Let's go find your wife, shall we?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And chapter 3 is here! I'm so glad you all are liking this fic as much as I'm enjoying writing it, thank you for all the wonderful reviews! Just as a reminder, I do make a point to finish all the fics I start - so you don't have to worry about me dropping this one in the middle. I think it's coming along nicely. We'll be getting into the real plot soon - so brace yourselves.

Flying took a lot longer in the real TARDIS than Alex would have normally expected. In the show, it seemed like they had landed almost immediately after throwing the flight lever. Here, in the real thing (the phrase seemed a paradox, now that she thought about it), the Doctor walked around the controls, lovingly stroking buttons as it- or rather- she hurled through the vortex. It was surreal and strange and every once in a while he’d ask her to press a button, or ring the bell, or type something on the typewriter.

They were at a smooth point in the vortex and Alex went to go make them some tea. It was amazing how the halls seemed to go on forever, like an endless labyrinth, honeycombed in the metal. She passed the library, the swimming pool she knew the Doctor was so fond of, and finally stumbled upon the kitchen. It sounded mad, but Alex could swear the TARDIS was rearranging herself to make it easier to find things. After making the tea, she made her way back to the control room and gave a cup to the Doctor, who brightened considerably at the prospect of it.

As she settled herself on the jumpseats, taking a sip of her tea, she realized that she needed to know when the Doctor was in his time-line. She didn’t want to give away any spoilers - and that drew a stupid smile from her - by the end of this trip she just might be more River than Alex.

“What?” was the question from the console.

She looked up to see him with that daft smirk on his face, holding the teacup and leaning with an air of utter nonchalance against the panel. His jacket had long since been slung across the jumpseats and forgotten. And it was in that moment that she realized that she didn’t remember when he had gotten dressed.

“When are you?” she asked him quietly, stirring her tea.

“Well,” he began slowly, a little taken-aback by the question. She assumed it was because of how similar she was to River, she couldn’t help asking the question without sounding like his wife. “Amy and Rory and I were on a spaceship with loose dinosaurs.” His face lit up in a grin and Alex smiled. She recalled Steven telling her about that episode but they hadn’t filmed it yet.

She was grateful that he hadn’t lost the Ponds. Karen and Arthur were leaving the show soon, and it was going to be painful for all of them. She wondered where the version of River that they were heading towards was in her timeline. “I’ll be looking forward to seeing that episode, then,” she teased, sipping on her tea.

“Oh, that hasn’t-” he chuckled and nodded, “But it is an episode then?” He got up and slid into the seat next to her, letting the TARDIS fly herself for a bit. “How does that work, then, the episodes?”

Alex ran a hand through her hair, twisting a curl around one finger and fluffing the back. “Well, I can’t exactly tell you everything. But I assume we just do all the major events of your life. The show’s been running for 50 years - from your first regeneration to now.”

He blinked at her. “That’s- I’m flattered, but that’s a little frightening. My entire life is out there somewhere on camera.”

“Oh, but it’s a brilliant life,” Alex said with a small smile, “You inspire a lot of people.” She decided now would not be a good time to mention cosplay and fanfiction.

Running a hand nervously through his hair, he shook his head, a blush spreading from his hairline to his bowtie. “I’m hardly all that.”

“Oh,” she took a sip of her tea, “But you are, Doctor.”

An easy silence passed between them, filled only by the gentle thrum of the TARDIS beneath their feet, and finally, the Doctor said, “Enough about me. What about you, Alex?”

She looked up at him, surprised by the question. She was hardly an interesting person - not an actress past her prime who half the time looked like mutton dressed as lamb. “Me? What about me?”

“I don’t know,” he gave her a smile and there was half a moment where she saw Matt written all over his features. He was so different from the actor that played him that Alex had forgotten all about the fact that they looked exactly the same. “I don’t know anything about you, and you know all about me, that’s hardly fair.”

“A little ironic, actually,” Alex said with a half a smirk, setting her tea aside, “Considering that that’s exactly River’s relationship to you for half her life.”

She immediately regretted saying that when his face fell at a small realization. “Do you know- know about-?”

His tone was so forlorn and broken and needy for someone to understand and Alex felt her heart break. She took a breath and looked down at her tea, nodding quietly. “-That was the first episode I was in.” There was really nothing she could say to make any of this better, so she just reached for his hand. He took it, suddenly looking so old, and she just wanted to take him into her arms and press a kiss to his forehead and tell him it would be okay - but of course, it wouldn’t be. How could it? He’d seen his wife die, and he’d have to give her up a second and third time. Trenzalore and Darillium.

He took a deep breath and collected himself, giving her a weak smile and blinking back glassy tears. “Sorry, this was about you. Go on.”

“It’s alright,” she assured him. The trouble was that she wasn’t quite sure what to say about herself. She started with the basics: “Well... I’m somewhere over twenty, and I have a daughter who’s ten, and I thought about being an artist until I decided to be an actress.” 

“River draws,” he said, as if it were a revelation, “She’s quite good at it.”

“I’m not her,” Alex reminded him. 

He shook his head. “I know, but it’s interesting to see parallels across Universes.” He paused and then asked, “What about your Doctor?”

She frowned, thinking she knew where this was going and feeling a little uncomfortable with it. “I’m sorry?” 

He seemed a little flustered. “Your Doctor- you know- your version of me. Do you have him? What’s he like?” 

Matt. She shifted in her seat and attempted to hide a fond twinkle in her eyes as she looked down at her teacup, cradling it in her hands. “He exists, yes. I don’t- I don’t have-have him if that’s what you mean,” her tone had an edge to it that she hadn’t meant to let slip through, “He’s daft and flirtatious and extremely clumsy - and he’s very good with children.” 

“And neither have you have ever-” 

She cut him off, “-No. We haven’t.”

“Why not?” 

She fluffed the back of her hair again before setting her teacup aside and beginning to worry her thumb between her other fingers, rubbing her palms together. “Because, Doctor, I’m fifty and he’s thirty, and Matt doesn’t see me like that.” 

His forehead wrinkled. “I don’t see what that has to do with anything. I’m twelve-hundred and River’s only a couple hundred years old.” 

“That’s different,” Alex brushed it off, flicking the statement away. 

He took her hands in his own, thumbs rubbing over her pulse and making her breath hitch in her throat. “Do you see him like that?” 

She snatched her hands away and stood. “I’m not having this conversation with you, Doctor.” _You’re a bloody fictional character, for God’s sake_ , she mentally added, feeling absolutely daft for even opening up to him about this. It was just that- he was like Matt, except he seemed to understand her intimately and it both drew her toward him like a moth to a flame and unsettled her a lot more than it should do.

 He looked wounded, and a bitter taste filled her mouth and she looked away from him, wrapping her arms around herself and walking over to the console again. “Are we almost there?”

 It took him a few moments, but he stood and ran his hands over the controls. “Nearly,” he nodded, checking the course and throwing a few more levers. It was unbearably quiet as they landed, only the grind of the TARDIS engines could be heard as the Doctor bounced on the balls of his feet and gave her a little smile.

 "Let’s go find your wife, shall we?” Alex said, breaking the silence and starting toward the door.

 The Doctor quickly caught up with her. “Yes,” he agreed, looking quite sorry for their little trip to be over so soon, and she wondered why. She was hardly good company for him compared to what he was used to.

 It was strange. She wanted to go home, to forget all about this and pray it was just a bad dream, to wake up somewhere and realize this was a product of a really bad hangover. But Alex couldn’t fight the reality of it - and there was a small part of her that didn’t want to. A part that whispered about adventure and about the fact that this was space aliens and Time-Travel and the Doctor and everywhere-everywhen and she could just pick a place she wanted to start and he would most likely take her there at the drop of the hat. She didn’t have to go home.

 And yet she had to.

 Alex sighed, slipping out the TARDIS doors, the Doctor on their heels. She wasn’t here to have adventures. She was here to find River and get herself back to where she belonged, on a set, acting out someone else’s life.

 God, now that just sounded horrible, now didn’t it?

 Her life wasn’t boring, it was hardly in need of extra excitement. So this shouldn’t be a problem at all. Find River. Get home.

 “Here we are, Cardiff,”  the Doctor said, stepping out and giving her a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

 Alex took a breath, relieved, as she looked around the city, making out the familiar skyline, and then looked at him. “What now?”

 He pondered her question for a moment, and then his eyes lit up with an idea. “I’ll send her a message - and then hopefully my sonic screwdriver can lock on to her vortex manipulator.”

 Now that was something she hadn’t explored yet: the sonic. It seemed ridiculous to think that it might not work, considering that she’d just flown through space and time in a box that was actually bigger on the inside and had met a man who she’d thought to be fictional. She watched with an intrigued smirk as he sent the message to his wife, then pulled out his sonic screwdriver and the familiar whir filled the air. Surprised at herself and at him, she couldn’t help but be impressed- well- impressed until she realized that they were both in costume, with a working sonic screwdriver and he would be completely in-character because he was the character. They were going to get mobbed by fans soon, and the poor man wouldn’t have a clue.

 Alex took a breath and strode past him, calling after him, “Brace yourself.”

 “For what?”

 “You’ll see.”

 


	4. Now What?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I exist,” River stated, voice as firm and strong as she could manage in her confusion. It was almost like she was saying that more to herself than to him. She looked up at Arthur with wet blue eyes and demanded, “How can I make you believe me?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry it took so long to get this chapter up, my River muse was being grumpy and wouldn't tell me anything. We had quite a few talks about it because she's been peculiarly silent. She won't tell me anything, I think she's upset with me or something.
> 
> River: "Of course I'm upset with you! You put me in an alternate Universe where everybody thinks I'm stark-raving-mad! So obviously, I'm not going to do dialogue or give you any prose or show you my painful emotions!"  
> Me: "That's really rude!"  
> River: "So is putting me in alternate Universe!" 
> 
> Well, I can't relaly argue that, now can I?  
> Anyway, I apologize, and the chapter's here now. I hope you all enjoy it!

River just stared, openmouthed at Arthur. Suddenly, it clicked, and she looked away, eyes wide, and swallowed. “I- I _am_ River Song.”

 “No-but-” Arthur frowned at her, pausing, as if trying very hard to explain something. It was endearing, really. He knew that she wasn’t his friend, yet he still thought her some insane woman who just needed a wakeup call and he was kind enough to try and give her one. “Just- hang on.” He jumped up from the seat. “I know she has some somewhere.”

 River watched as he crossed the room and crouched. He mumbled something to himself and rummaged around on the DVD shelves in Alex’s entertainment center. Still in shock, she laid back against the couch, drawing one leg up and draping an arm over it, trying to tune out the vicious argument going on in the kitchen. It probably had to do with her. She wondered what they thought they were going to do- lock her up? She caught bits and pieces, a smattering about reporters and newspapers and the ‘fandom’, whatever the hell that was, and River cringed as she recognized the Doctor’s - no, Matt’s - low, angry, calculated voice, insisting that she didn’t really think she was River. She wasn’t mad, that Alex had more sense than that, that she was just playing a prank. It hurt. He didn’t trust her or believe her, and why should he? He didn’t know her.

It was agonizingly close to the dreaded day when she’d look into the Doctor’s eyes, and her own husband wouldn’t know who she was. It was painful;  It terrified her. It clutched at her hearts, wringing them between calloused hands and causing them to grip in her chest and she couldn’t help it. It was stupid and irrational but Matt scared her, and she wasn’t sure she could handle facing him and his disappointment, anger, and hurt much longer.

“Ah!”

The triumphant cry from across the room startled her from her thoughts and she looked up to see Arthur coming over with a dvd in his hands. He shoved it into her lap and flopped down on the couch next to her. “There, look.” 

She blinked at the DVD, her mouth falling open as she was met with the Doctor, Amy, Rory, and herself staring back at her with over dramatic expressions and poses, with the logo of _Doctor Who, the Complete Sixth Series_ slapped on the front. Her eyes widened and she flipped it over with a little gasp, reading off such names as: _Let’s Kill Hitler_ (was that Berlin? No, but it couldn’t be!)  and _The Day of the Moon_ (God, that kiss, she remembered that kiss, that horrible, hearts-wrenching kiss). River flung the DVD to the side as if she’d touched something revolting and fumbled for her journal, rapidly flipping through pages until she found the one she wanted, and held it up to the back of the DVD. There it was, matching names - the episode and the journal entry: _A Good Man Goes to War_. She bit her lip, feeling her eyes fill with tears. 

She was real. Her journal entry was real. Yet- this was real too. 

“I don’t understand.”

Her fingertips whispered over the cover, then over the drawings in her journal, and she shook her head. “I exist,” she stated, voice as firm and strong as she could manage in her confusion. It was almost like she was saying that more to herself than to him. She looked up at Arthur with wet blue eyes and demanded, “How can I make you believe me?” 

He gaped at her for a few moments, looking like a ball of fluffy, confused human, and took a breath. “L-let’s start with getting the blokes in the kitchen to believe that you’re not Alex, hm?” 

“You still think I’m insane,” River pointed out, ducking her head and sucking a ragged breath. Looking at that cover - she couldn’t blame him for believing that and she didn’t know up from down anymore. What the hell was going on? How could there be a whole TV show about her life? It was the biggest invasion of privacy River had ever experienced. Nothing even came close. 

“Hey, um-” he put a hand on her shoulder and squeezed it, and River realized she was trying very hard not to cry as she deperately tried to swallow a behemoth lump in her throat. She was confused and annoyed and this was all so overwhelming. She just wanted someone to understand her. After a few, deep breaths, she managed to compose herself, shoving all of that to the back burner and wiping her eyes dry. “Everything’s going to be okay,” Arthur finished awkwardly, patting her shoulder - and god, she had to give him props, because he was trying so hard. 

She gave him a little smile and tried to nod. “Thank you, Arthur.” The name was strange and foreign in her mouth, and she wasn’t sure why saying it gave her some measure of comfort. Maybe it was because he was so unlike Rory - the different name was good, something to hold on to, to remind herself that this was a different place entirely and that she wasn’t just going insane.

It wasn’t long before Karen, Matt, and the Moff filed back into the room. Matt had a grim look on his face. He was upset - and River couldn’t blame him. It didn’t make that look any easier to handle. 

“Alright, Alex, get your coat, please,” the Moff told her. 

Her mouth fell open and River let out an indignant noise, crossing her arms. She didn’t take kindly to being ordered about by someone she had only just met. She had gotten enough of that at Stormcage. “Where are we going?” 

“Hospital,” was his short reply. Karen was biting her lip in worry and Matt was deathly silent. River looked around at their faces - concerned, angry - and Arthur’s was different. Arthur’s held a hint of apology. 

“But-” she swallowed, pleading with them, “I’m fine.”

“It’s not up for debate, Kingston.” The surname tumbled from Matt’s lips easily, and yet at the very end there was a hitch to it as she turned to look at him, chewing on her lip. She thought she saw a flicker of something akin to redress in his eyes, but it was shrouded by several layers of hurt and deep-seated fright for her well being. Or rather, Alex’s well being. 

She turned to Arthur for help, who blinked and then said quietly, “She’s not Alex.” Everyone turned to stare at him, and he took a breath. River shot him a grateful glance, and he went on. “She can read without reading glasses.” 

“What?” Karen whirled to face River, eyes wide, mouth dropping open, “How?” she demanded. 

River was about to answer. Matt beat her to it, his voice low, void, a shivering emptiness to it that frightened her and made her blood run hot and cold. “She probably just got contacts, Kaz.” He shot Arthur a look as if to say: _for the love of God, stop humoring her_ , and River felt a surge of protective instinct when Arthur looked like a wounded puppy.

River felt her heart sinking into her chest, churning, pounding away like a bomb in a birdcage, her feelings mixing dangerously between anger and fear and utter defeat. Was there any way she could convince them that she was who she said she was? What gave Matt the right to simply write off everything his friends said? What gave any of them the right to order her about, to act like she was just a child who was having a stupid daydream? What gave them the write to drag her out the door, to take her to the car, to drive her to the hospital? 

She supposed that, perhaps, she did - because she let them do it. Maybe it was because part of her wondered whether or not she was truly mad and her past life had just been a bad dream. But no, that was just stupid. She knew herself better than that. Bad dreams didn’t leave journals. They didn’t leave working vortex manipulators strapped to her wrist and, she remembered with a dark twist of a smile, they didn’t leave Elvis Presley’s body behind. 

They got out to the car, and River simmered away in the backseat as they drove up to the hospital. She simmered while they lead her into the deceptively charming purple and white exam room and had her sit on the cold examination table. She simmered while the doctor looked her over, asked her stupid questions she didn’t think she ought to have to answer and that were hardly relevant. She grit her jaw beneath the group’s appraising gaze, closing her eyes to avoid the one that seemed too much like the Doctor’s disappointment, and finally lost her loose grip on control at the diagnoses. 

“I believe Ms. Kingston is having a dissociative episode, due to stress or some sudden traumatic event. It’s something that you’ll just have to wait out. It will pass.”

“You’re a bleeding idiot.” 

The Moff pinched the bridge of his nose like an exasperated father who’d just about had enough of his petulant child. “Alex-” 

She shot up from her seat on the exam table and glared daggers at him. “I’m not Alex, I’m not mad, and I didn’t just experience a traumatic event. Unless you call shagging the Doctor traumatic,” she snapped saucily, and felt irrationally satisfied when Matt began to choke on air, Karen’s mouth fell open, and Arthur looked like he didn’t want to even be in the room at the moment. 

The doctor didn’t seem phased at all. “It’s possible that your mind is blocking out the event and replacing it with other, more bearable memories,” he took a breath, “Now, I think you should go home, get some sleep, relax, try to relieve some of your stress.” 

“I’m telling you, there is absolutely nothing wrong with me,” she bit back, glaring down at the smaller man. A small flash of amusement flooded through her at his height, which was immediately replaced by anger. “My name is River Song, and you can’t convince me otherwise. I know my own mind.” With that, she turned to stalk out of the room, fuming. She gasped when Matt gripped her arm, pulling her back and holding her in place. River just lost track of all coherent thought patterns and fought the urge twist out of his grasp and sock him in the  face. Somehow, she thought that might not go over too well. “Matthew, Let me go.” 

“No.” Was his single answer. “Alex, sit, just- hang on for one moment and listen.” He pulled her back over to the exam table. “You can’t be River Song,” he tried to reason with her. His voice was that same, quiet tone - but it held a tremor to it that revealed how much effort it was taking to keep himself from shouting at her. 

Her chin jutted out and she gave him the most terror-inducing glare she could muster. “And why not?” she snapped. 

Matt seemed to struggle to formulate an answer as he looked at her, forehead wrinkled and mouth slightly agape in thought. He then straightened, having not let go of her arm - either not wanting to, or merely forgetting that he was holding her. He turned to the doctor and asked, “Have you got a stethoscope?” 

“Why?” 

“Please, just-” he huffed, “Trust me.” One was retrieved for Matt, and he held it out to her. River’s nose wrinkled as she looked up at him, frowning, but she accepted it anyway and put the ear-pieces in. “River has two hearts, right?” Matt whispered, taking the stethoscope and poising it over her chest, not pressing yet, just waiting for her answer. 

She nodded once. Yes, she had two hearts. She was mostly Time Lady after all. She expected she knew where this was going. She also knew that Matt wouldn’t get the result that he was hoping for. However, her answer seemed to satisfy him, and he pressed the cool metal to the left side of her chest, and then her right, waiting for her reaction. 

Left: _tha-thump, tha-thump, tha-thump-  
_

-and he moved it the right, and an answering heartbeat filled her ears. 

Matt had to pause when he saw no visible reaction from her. She just stared calmly back at him and then quirked an eyebrow. “You were saying?” 

He gaped at her before grabbing the steth. “Give me that.” He went to have a listen himself, putting the earpieces in and repeating his earlier actions. At first, it was as if he didn’t know if he’d heard correctly. He switched back, listening first the left heart, then the right one, doing that again and again, each time his frown deepening until he ripped the stethescope away and simply stared at her. 

His mouth opened and closed a few times and his eyes searched hers and she could see the demand in them, the question of how this could be possible. He’d never met an alien. He thought aliens didn’t exist - that River Song was just a fictional character. This wasn’t going to be easy for any of them. Steeling herself, River took a breath and reached for his hand, her fingertips brushing his and for the first time she broke the barrier and stretched out toward that intimate spark of his mind, the play of the synapses and the reflection of a soul that was so unlike the Doctor’s it startled her into silence.

His reaction was immediate, visceral, shocked. An involuntary jerk, and River gave him a soft, reassuring smile, soothingly stroking his knuckles with the pads of her fingertips before telepathically whispering to him: _that’s right, Matthew. I’ve got two hearts_.


	5. This Was Not the Plan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Female humans, lots of them, quite quickly gravitating toward Alex and him like a bunch of lost moons looking for a planet to revolve around. The Doctor glanced over at Alex, thinking he might have felt the pavement shake as they rushed over to him, and his hearts lurched when he saw that devious twist of a smile playing on her lips - so River-like, when River was getting up to shenanigans.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Good Lord, I'm sorry this took so long you guys. I kept getting dragged off places like lake-houses and conferences where there was no time to write. Plus, my Alex-muse was being stupid and deciding not to talk to me (which is why this ended up being Eleven's perspective). Well, anyway, it's here now. So I'll shut up and let you go enjoy it :)

They hadn’t been walking along the street for very long before the Doctor spotted them. Female humans, lots of them, quite quickly gravitating toward Alex and him like a bunch of lost moons looking for a planet to revolve around. He glanced over at Alex, thinking he might have felt the pavement shake as they rushed over to him, and his hearts lurched when he saw that devious twist of a smile playing on her lips - so River-like, when River was getting up to shenanigans.

Naughty word, shenanigans. Rather like Spoilers, or wriggly. No, he definitely didn’t want to think about wriggly. Not with Alex around. She was too much like River and he could find that his stupid mind would wander off to places that it shouldn’t be going with her. She wasn’t his wife and he ought not to think about her like that. Oh- those girls were getting closer now.

“Oh my god, it is them!” he heard one of them whisper to the rest of the gaggle, and he glanced at Alex for some sort of explanation.

She merely gave him a shrug as they approached - and oh, they were making odd noises, and grinning at him and her, and once seemed quite a bit like she would melt into the floor.

“‘Scuse us, but could we have your autographs?” was the question that sounded much more like a demand than a request, and the Doctor blinked, wondering why on earth anybody would want his scrawl on a random bit of paper. It seemed rather odd to him, but he took the paper and pen and signed anyway.

Alex was doing the same, albiet much more graciously than he. She had a bright, warm grin on her face that he couldn’t tell if it was genuine or not - she was that good. If she was annoyed, it didn’t show in the slightest as she accepted each item in turn and signed them, asking questions about the fans and saying hello and seeming genuinely surprised about how excited everyone was to meet her. He wished he could handle this with the same grace.

When he handed the paper back to the fan, she took it, and then laughed. “No, no... your real name.”

Alex caught his eye and he blinked at her before looking back at the paper that he’d signed: The Doctor. He didn’t understand. Did they expect him to sign his Gallifreyan name? Because that was not going to happen.

And then something odd happened.

Alex changed. She cocked a hip and placed a hand on it, tossed her curls, and let out a small, throaty laugh that made tingles spread up his spine and prick his scalp. Suddenly, she was all hooded eyes and flirtation and gunslinging confidence.

“I’m ‘fraid the only one who gets to see that is me. Isn’t that right, Sweetie?” One eyebrow lifted with the corner of her mouth, creating a demure, amused smirk that made his mouth go dry. “Among other things.” Her eyes flicked up and down his body and the smirk widened, and titters erupted from the small group as she sashayed over and draped an arm over his shoulder and straightened his bowtie.

He didn’t know what was happening. Somehow Alex had just managed to transform herself into his wife and he couldn’t even tell the difference between her portrayal and River, and it scared him. This was Alex. But it was also River. Both in the same breath and the same movement, like two voices in one and four hands in two...and... and... no, he definitely should not be thinking about her hands.

“Isn’t that right, Doctor?” Alex prompted, tone insistent as she gave him that terrifying twist of a smirk again.

He floundered before responding, flailing because he wanted to put his hands on her hips but knew he shouldn’t. Not his wife. Not his wife. Not. His. Wife. “Ah, yes, dear.” It was a bit lame, but his brain was not processing things correctly at the moment.

She smiled and then flounced away from him to sign more autographs, signing them with “Hello Sweetie”’s and River Song’s. The Doctor hadn’t the faintest idea what had just happened, but he hated to admit that he liked it. Suddenly this... this collected, soft-eyed, beautiful woman was transformed into the raging hurricane that was his wife right before his eyes. He could only stand there stupidly, utterly amazed, and keep signing autographs and answering flusturing questions about River and his sex life.

Finally, the crowd went away and they were left to themselves again, and River melted off off Alex’s body almost visibly, leaving only a beautiful woman, a softened expression, trailing a jacket over her shoulder. The Doctor just stood there, gaping at her, blinking, and slowly she began to look worried.

“What?”

He shook his head, taking a breath. The Doctor clapped his hands once, bounced on the balls of his feet, and then gave her a small smile. “I just... you were my wife three seconds ago.”

“I’m not her,” Alex stated firmly as she started back in the direction they’d been heading.

The Doctor hurried to catch up, tripping over air in his haste. “No, no, I know that. But-” he struggled to articulate his meaning, “You changed. You were all... sexy and curls and sweetie.”

She chuckled, soft, throaty, yes - but with a completely different quality before. Glass-like, he mused. Not fire, like River’s. “I was acting a part that’s very familiar to me, Doctor,” she told him slowly, explaining, tone measured, “It’s not that difficult.”

He shook her head, chuckling, and then Alex paused. “I’m not sexy,” she added as an afterthought. “But that’s immensely flattering.” She kept walking, leaving him standing there and blinking.

The Doctor caught her arm. “Of course you are.”

Alex laughed, pushing it off. “River is sexy. Not me.”

“You make her sexy.”

Well, that was a... unexpected. But it was true. River- this River- imaginary River who emerged from Alex like a reflection that had sprung from a mirror wouldn’t, couldn’t be sexy or beautiful without her there behind the scenes to direct, to show her how.

“That’s very flattering, Doctor, but it’s River you love, not me. And River is a completely different person.”

He huffed. Oh, he was buggering all of this up, wasn’t he? How did he explain to her that he knew they were two different people, beautiful in opposite ways that still fit together like two matching puzzle pieces? They were the flipside of the other, fit together perfectly, different things entirely that still seemed meant to harmonize well. Like fish fingers and custard, he mused with a wisp of a smile.

“You’re not sexy like River is. You’re right. But you are.” He paused. “Sexy. I mean. You’re beautiful, Alex, if you don’t mind me saying so.”

She shot him an incredulous look that told him she thought that everything he was saying was complete rubbish. “You’re saying that because I look like River.”

“You do,” he gave her that with a small smile. “But you see, River’s different.”

He stopped her, tugging on her arm and she tried to pull away, but he held her wrist firmly. Alex stared at him, an unfathomable look in her eyes. “Let me go, Doctor.”

Somewhere in the back of his head told him he was being, perhaps a bit, dodgy. He didn’t really care at this point, because this gorgeous woman didn’t see herself for what she was and he wondered who or what on earth could’ve have taken that from her. With River, he knew his wife was insecure about her various scars, about the little bump on her nose that he loved. He knew she hated how her hair misbehaved sometimes. He knew that River didn’t always feel beautiful, but he supposed that was a woman’s way. But to... to deny so emphatically that oneself was attractive, just because they looked like someone else - to see the small flash of pain and sadness in Alex’s eyes when she’d said that- that was another creature entirely.

“You’re nothing like River,” he told her, taking her hands clasped in his own at the side of the path. Her mind was winding with his and it was distracting - and he could see then, just how different she was. With different pains and a different childhood and different fears. He breathed deeply through his nose and gave her a small smile. “To start, your eyes have more green in them. Not by much, but a little. River would never choose that lipstick. She doesn’t like peach, says it doesn’t agree with her. But it suits you.” His smile widened, eyes flicking up to her head of curls. “Her hair’s messier because of what the vortex manipulator does with it. And her curls are just slightly tighter than how you keep yours. Her hair’s shorter, too.”

He continued on, mapping the tiny differences, and when he finished, she was giving him that tiny half-smirk. “You can see all of that, hm?”

“When you’ve had a hundred years to map your wife’s features, you learn her by heart.”

“Never knew you were such a romantic.”

“Neither did I.” He took a breath. “You are beautiful in a very different way, Alex. You’re softer, more temperate,” he paused, “Sadder, somehow.”

He heard her breath catch and regretted the last comment. She let go of his hand and he suddenly felt cold as the connection was broken. “It’s good River has you.”

“And who do you have?” he asked, putting his hands in his pockets as he followed her back down the street, swinging around a lampost and tripping over the curb.

Alex shrugged, a small smile crossing her face. “My daughter.”

She swung around another lampost, meeting him halfway, and had to crane her neck to look up at him. Her eyes were so different, he mused. Green, with flecks of gold and blue. River’s were blue with flecks of gold, rimmed with green. Still beautiful, still different. “And who takes care of you?” he asked her, voice gentling. Who held her when she cried and told her she was pretty when she didn’t feel pretty? Who carried her things for her and made her tea and watched scary movies with her?

He realized he’d asked all of those things aloud when he realized she was staring at him with an unfathomable expression. “I don’t-” she swallowed, “I don’t need someone like that.”

“I think you need not to need someone like that. You want to not need someone like that, but you do,” he told her, leaning on shoulder against the post.

“Stop it.”

He bit his lip and sighed, hanging his head. There he went, saying stupid and unnecessary things and hurting people, prying too deep into places they didn’t want him. He couldn’t help it. The Doctor wanted to know more about her, to make sure Alex would be okay when he left and not have to continue on alone while he just rode off into the sunset with his beautiful wife.

They fell quiet again, walking along to wherever Alex was leading them. If River had been there, her scanners would have by now picked up a strange reading just outside Earth’s atmosphere: a tiny space-craft. If either of them had paid any attention, they would’ve noticed that they were being followed.

 


	6. The Ice in Your Eyes Matches Mine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> River had to be who she said she was. There was no other explanation. Two hearts, and on top of that he’d heard her- heard her in his mind, and perhaps he was going mad, Matt didn’t know. Everything was wrong and he couldn’t think. He merely gaped at her, and then demanded:
> 
> “What’ve you done with Alex?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yet again, my characters failed to let me know which perspective this chapter needed to written in. Apparently, it was meant to be in Matt's perspective, not River's, which is why this took so long, and I do apologize. As for basic housekeeping: Chapters will now be posted no later than every Friday, just so you guys have a measuring stick and I have a deadline to work toward ^_^ I hope that's suitable for you! Anyway, here's the chapter, I hope you guys enjoy it, and yes... I know... I'm sorry (not sorry) about the cliffhanger.

How long Matt stared at the woman in front of him, he didn’t know. Those curls were not like Alex’s- they were wound more tightly than hers, her eyes were, now that he looked with them, blue speckled with gold and green- Alex’s were green. Her features were less soft, somehow, and her body just a bit more athletic. On top of that- her mind was wrapped in his and he couldn’t explain the feeling, it was like... like when one meets a person, and they get talking together and they feel as if they’ve known them forever, even if it’s only been a few moments. They know them intimately, they feel the burn of their soul against their own and this was like that, only deeper, stronger, more frightening. Her wrong heartbeat was still filling his ears and he ripped the stethoscope away, mouth agape, trying to purchase breath.

She had two hearts.

She had to be who she said she was. There was no other explanation. Two hearts, and on top of that he’d heard her- heard her in his mind, and perhaps he was going mad, Matt didn’t know. Everything was wrong and he couldn’t think. He merely gaped at her, and then demanded:

“What’ve you done with Alex?”

Within the space of a heartbeat, her entire expression shifted from that bright, calm exterior to worry. Those eyes widened, her lips pursed and then parted, and her tongue darted out to wet them. Her eyes shifted between him and everyone else in the room. Matt’s own gaze was darkening. Alex was out there somewhere and this woman was here. And perhaps it wasn’t logical to think that she’d done something with her, but that was what first came to his mind.

“I’m River, darling, you know who I am,” she said gently, leaning forward from where she sat, the paper on the table rustling, “Do you really think I would take your friend?”

“You’re a psychopath,” he snapped back, “If it suits you, you would.”

The whole room had fallen deathly silent. The hurt flooded River’s eyes and instantly Matt regretted what he’d said. She may not be Alex, but River had her face- and he couldn’t stand that expression on her face, especially knowing he was the cause. His mouth ran dry and he looked away. Matt turned and walked to the other side of the room, as if that physical distance could put a distance between the two of them that he so desperately needed.

River was staring down at her hands, her voice strong, but shaking with barely controlled pain and anger as she spoke: “You’re a little boy lost without his mother,” she took a breath, her tone depreciating and trembling, “It’s only natural for you to lash out.”

“Alex isn’t-”

“-She’s old enough to be, isn’t she? You’ve got the face of a twelve year old boy,” she goaded right back, giving just as good as she got, and it twisted deep into Matt’s chest and his head snapped up and he glared at her.

Alex never would have insulted him like that.

“Do you actually have the ability to empathize with anyone in this room right now?” Matt asked, tone incredulous, taking deliberate steps toward her, “Alex is gone, we don’t know where she is, and that scares us!”

“Scares you, you mean.”

His fingers curled and uncurled and his entire body went rigid. Nobody else knew what he felt for Alex. River couldn’t be insinuating anything- no, but she had been in his mind. How much had she seen? Had she seen his want to drag Alex into his arms, tuck her head beneath his chin? Had she seen how every time he kissed her on set he so desperately wanted it to be him and her, and not River and the Doctor? Had she seen his fears? His doubts? Matt ground his jaw, glaring down at her, and River met him stroke for stroke.

Their showdown was broken by another voice: “-Girls, you’re both pretty,” Karen stepped in suddenly, Scottish brogue annoyed and assuming, she folded her arms and cut a glance between the two of them and simply stated. “Explain.”

“You said she wasn’t River a minute ago,” Arthur pointed out, confused.

Matt swallowed, his eyes never leaving River’s green ones. Her chest rose and fell in slow, deep breaths, fighting with the effort to keep calm and probably not strangle him. She could do it, too, knock him flat and kill him on the spot and Matt knew that. Yet, somehow, he was too focused on Alex for it to matter much. They’d both traded insults that they knew would hurt the most, and the scary thing was that neither of them knew the other, and yet they did. They knew each other so intimately. Neither was like the counterpart, but they were, mirror images, shadows, similar in their differences. Enough the same to know which barbed arrows to use and to pick them out, choice weapons.

Matt took a deep breath and glanced up at his friends, and then back at the confused doctor and Steven. Finally, he told them what had shocked him most: “She’s got two hearts.”

He thought he ought not mention that River had reached into his mind, lest he sound far more crazy than he already did. Even so, everyone was staring at him now, and Steven’s eyes were slowly growing to the size of small grapefruits as the doctor lunged forward and snatched the stethoscope up, putting it to his ears and River’s chest.

Slowly, his mouth fell open and he kept listening, switching, until impatiently, River batted him away. He set the stethoscope down and glanced around the room, speechless.

“She’s got two hearts?” Steven asked, nearly choking. Dumbly, the doctor nodded.

River sat back, her face going neutral again. Not blank like a piece of paper- but unreadable so that it might as well have been a book written in Kanji. That frightened Matt. He’d never seen that expression from Alex. She was so animated, so lively when she was happy and absolutely heartbreaking when she was sad. Like a goddess when she laughed, tipping her head back, that fall of curls cascading over her shoulder, like a temptress when she smirked or flirted. Never blank. Never unreadable. Always open.

One by one, everyone else stepped up, took the stethoscope, and had a listen, each with their own measure of shock: Karen’s wide-eyed, closed-mouth moonface and colorful exclamations; Arthur’s quiet open-mouthed stare; Steven’s whoop of excitement. River simply watched them with an unblinking stare, unsettling Matt a lot more than it should do. Alex would have said something. She would have joked about how excited Steven was to meet River Song, teasing him about his crush on his own character. She would have patted Arthur’s cheek and squeezed Karen’s hand, offering some word of comfort. River didn’t know them. River had no reason to act any different than she was now. She was angry, frustrated, upset- and Matt knew that when River was hurt she put up that mask, hid behind it so that she could appear stronger than she actually was. Matt got that, he understood that, but that didn’t make the difference between the two any less sickening.

Finally, Karen said something intelligible:

“So, you’re really River Song.”

River nodded once, “Yes.” Her tone carried more than a little patient annoyance, as if speaking to a small child.

It was too much. Alex’s annoyance was mild, amused, always accompanied by an exasperated: ‘darling’, or a throaty half-chuckle. Matt started suddenly, pacing, and he snapped, “You didn’t answer my question, River,” and that named rolled off his tongue just like it did when he was performing. The shiver that sped up the woman’s spine was visceral, sudden, ferocious.

“Matt, I really doubt that she had anything to do with it. Alex is probably just out,” Arthur said, always the level-headed one.

He spun on his heel, set his jaw, and folded his arms. “Alex was absolutely pissed last night. You know it, I know it. How do we know she actually got home safely?” he demanded.

Arthur raised his hand. “I was the designated driver, mate, we dropped her off.”

“But did you actually see her go in the door?” Matt emphasized, glowering, and yes- yes he was starting to panic, his breath was quickening and his heart was racing and he couldn’t help it- this was Alex’s safety they were talking about. “Because she went home last night and nobody’s seen her since and suddenly she’s here,” he nodded toward River, still sitting on the exam table.

“She can hear you.” River looked more than a little put out by this whole thing, and some part of Matt supposed she had a right to be.

Matt saw the small amount of fear that flickered in Arthur’s eyes and knew what the answer to his question was: nobody knew if Alex had, in fact, gotten inside her flat in one piece or not. They’d drove off, left her there, sodding drunk. Alex could be somewhere else entirely, hurt, picked up by some pervert of a bloke... all the worse scenarios were running through his head and he didn’t stop to think, didn’t stop to check himself before he exploded..

“Godammit, Arthur!”

“I didn’t think to check, Matt, I’m sorry!”

Somewhere in the midst of this, Steven’s phone went off. He shot the two men a look and then stepped outside to take the call, essentially leaving them without adult supervision.

Matt was seeing red. In truth, he wasn’t angry at Arthur. He was angry at himself. Frightened, no terrified, for Alex. He hoped to God she was just out at the flower market or something, having a good time, that she’d come to the set and wonder what all the fuss was about, and they could have a good laugh about the bizarre situation later. He growled and the speed of his pacing picked up as he ran a hand through his hair. Karen started, as if to follow him and stopped him, but Arthur kept her from it, seeming to decide it was best to let him stew. It was someone else entirely that broke into his haze of pounding anxiety.

"You need to calm down.”

The voice was calm, even, warm. River was standing, walking toward him, and Matt whirled on her, all at once seeing Alex and everything not-Alex and it confused and disoriented him. He bit his lip, staring down at her, breathing hard, his hands resting on the counter.

Her fingers covered his, electric, cool to the touch. Hands exactly like Alex’s but startling in their temperature and their callouses. Alex’s were soft and warm and River’s were cold and rough and lined with pain. He looked up at her, meeting her eyes, and something in her gaze shifted and he saw her age. Matt chewed on his lip and snatched his hand away.

“It doesn’t help Alex if you’re so angry you can’t think straight,” she told him firmly, levelheaded, sure of her voice.

He acknowledged that with a barely perceptible nod, swallowing hard, and he ran a hand through his hair, starting to pace again just to keep sane. Matt barely had time to remember that Moffat had stepped outside, barely had time to wonder what the phonecall had been about, before the man walked back in, holding his phone, face ashen.

They all whirled on him and watched helplessly as the writer struggled to form words. Finally, he looked up at each of them in turn and said:“-A-Alex.” His voice cracked on the name.

Karen looked at Arthur and Arthur looked at Matt and everyone ignored River, who was still fixed on Moffat. “Well?” Karen demanded, prodding him further.

“Apparently someone witnessed her being kidnapped.”

Matt froze, his heart hitching in his chest. “What?”

“But- that’s-that’s not all,” Moffat whispered, turning to look directly at River. “They said that Matt had been as well.”

River froze, stood stock-still, eyes widening as the realization hit her. Her fist clenched and unclenched and she breathed: “The Doctor.”

Matt wasn’t thinking anymore. He wasn’t feeling, he wasn’t doing anything but imagining Alex, frightened, tied up somewhere, possibly hurt. Suddenly nothing else existed but that reality, his vision blurred around the edges and it hurt to breathe. Pain shot up his arm, a resounding crack. It registered that he’d punched the wall. He shook at his hand, looking around at his friends. Karen had buried her face in Arthur’s shoulder. Arthur was rubbing her back, his color turned a sallow shade and his eyes bright with worry even as he made soothing shushing noises in her ear. Moffat was furiously dialing numbers on his phone, apparently jarred into action. The only person standing still was River. Matt met her eyes. Hers were wet, frightened, and the rage that burned behind them matched the ice in Matt’s. Alex was gone, and his breath was stolen away with her.


	7. Two Sparrows for a Penny

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It wasn’t as dark as she previously thought. Alex could make out faint traces of furniture now, and the flop and curve of the Doctor’s fringe and ridiculous chin. There came a rustle as he shifted closer to her, his fingers barely taking the edge of hers in a gesture that was extremely comforting, considering their situation. He couldn’t do much with his hands- but that- that was enough.
> 
> She normally would yell at him, be angry, ask him what the hell was going on- but her mind felt foggy and clouded and she had a pounding headache, so she just scooted as close to him as she could and let her head fall to his shoulder.
> 
> “I am... so sorry, Alex,” he murmured, his cheek resting on her curls. “I don’t know what happened.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I worked up until Midnight on this one. :/ Here it is, anyway! Posted semi-on-time. I hope you guys like it :) It's quite the situation Alex and the Doctor have themselves in.

For the second time in this adventure, Alex woke disoriented. They were moving, she was sure of that- or perhaps that was just the rising, churning nausea in the pit of her stomach. As her senses came to her, smells and sounds and textures flooded into her brain. The first of which was a harsh metallic tang hanging sharply in the air- the second the smoothness and strange hollow quality of the floor beneath her, and the same slick of the wall at her back. The glassy, cool expanse dueled with the the harsh bite of metal around her wrists and ankles. It was then that she tried to move and panicked when she found herself unmistakably restrained. Her mouth was thankfully empty, but that only made it easier to allow distressed noises to creep out of it.

“Alex?”

Matt. What was he- no- she corrected herself- The Doctor.

There was a thrum beneath her, not gentle in the least like the TARDIS, but somehow higher pitched and altogether more threatening. Gasoline- no- oil- no a bite, a stench, burning and rotting and hot and shimmering through her nose and that only served to push her stomach further into her throat.

“Alex, dear, talk to me.”

His voice registered as coming from her left. But before she could respond, her throat constricted and her mouth flooded with saliva and she pitched to the right and threw up on the floor. It soon dissipated into straggled, dry heaves, and then into nothing but a soreness in her stomach and a sour taste in her mouth. She blinked rapidly and righted herself, feeling limp curls fall into her face and irately she shook her head, trying to clear them away.

It wasn’t as dark as she previously thought. She could make out faint traces of furniture now, and the flop and curve of the Doctor’s fringe and ridiculous chin. There came a rustle as he shifted closer to her, his fingers barely taking the edge of hers in a gesture that was extremely comforting, considering their situation. He couldn’t do much with his hands- but that- that was enough.

She normally would yell at him, be angry, ask him what the hell was going on- but her mind felt foggy and clouded and she had a pounding headache, so she just scooted as close to him as she could and let her head fall to his shoulder.

“I am... so sorry, Alex,” he murmured, his cheek resting on her curls. “I don’t know what happened.”

“I- feel like crap,” she whispered with a low, dry chuckle.

She felt the pull of him smiling against her head and he spoke again. “I think-” ah, she could hear the pained twist. It had been a rueful smile, then, only a response to her laugh- “That we’re drugged.”

“You don’t sound too drugged to me.”

“Time Lord.”

She pulled away and looked up at him, raising one eyebrow. “That just renders you immune to everything?”

“Ha,” he shook his head, that smile widening as he looked down at her and there was a love in his eyes. A depth and a protectiveness and it frightened her, caused her breath to hitch in her throat and her heart to beat a little faster. How could he care about her that much when they’d only just met? “Not quite,” he spoke again, “Just to some things- like ordinary drug compotes you silly humans like to use.”

It was strange, how calm she was, but Alex supposed it was just a coping mechanism. The gravity of the situation, as it were, hadn’t quite sunk into her yet. Her muscles were relaxed and she felt extremely subdued- quite distant- and that must be the drug, she realized. Heavy eyelids kept sliding shut, fatigued limbs would shiver involuntarily and she was vaguely aware of the Doctor squirming beside her, probably trying to work out of the metal restraints they were kept in.

“Alex,” he was saying, “I need for you to keep awake.”

Alex was tired. No- she didn’t want to stay awake. She wanted to curl into his side and sleep forever. What on earth had they given her? And who exactly was they, anyway? Where on earth was she?

“Alex!”

It hit her like a ice-cold downpour of acid rain. She shot off the Doctor’s shoulder, staring at him, wide-eyed and things seemed to come into focus a bit more, though her head pounded at the effort. Her vision kept glazing, but no- no- nonono, she was kidnapped. They were kidnapped, stashed God-knows-where and she was with the Doctor, and they had to get out of here. She had a life to get back to. Matt, her parents, the bloody Scottish play and brown eyes and brown curls and a smile to match her own- Salome.

More saliva flooded her mouth and she swallowed frantically, blinking back frightened tears, her body shivering- both hot and cold. The Doctor must have seen her expression, even in the dark, because his matched hers: old eyes filled with worry and reassurance and he stopped moving to simply stare at her like an apologetic puppy.

“Get me home, Doctor. You promised,” she whispered, voice low- trembling.

She saw his throat constrict. The Doctor opened his  mouth to answer her, but before he could a metal, rusted scream reverberated through the hair. Light spilled into the room through the newly-opened door, silhouetting a figure in harsh, powerful brush strokes. It stepped into the halflight of the room and morphed into a she: curves and sloping shoulders, knowing hands gripping the barrel of a rifle. Head tilted back, a fall of dark hair gathered into a ponytail down her back as she cocked a hip and shifted her stance, hazel eyes glaring down at her prisoners.

“I thought you were awake,” she said, starting toward them. Alex couldn’t help but press closer to the Doctor. He merely stared up at the woman, taking in her strange manner of dress. She looked almost like she’d tumbled out of a Western: complete with the suede boots and white pants, the greatcoat and loosely buttoned linen shirt.

The Doctor ground his teeth. “Azira.”

She gave a little bow and a flick of her hair, a dark smirk spreading across her face. “Yours truly, dear.”

Alex heard him make a small noise of anger in the back of his throat and cut a glance to his pinched face, fear coiling in the pit of her stomach. She didn't like this, not one bit. Alex just wanted to go home, to get a new dog, and to cuddle with her daughter and watch WHO. The last place she wanted to be was tied to a wall in a spaceship, drugged, with people she had just met. 

“You will turn this ship around and take us back to earth."

Azira merely laughed, “Sorry, mate. The money’s too good for that.”

Alex was slowly catching up to the two, processing everything that was going on. Her mouth opened and closed and she swallowed. Quick glances between the two. Chest rising and falling. Heart hammering in her chest. Her mouth was dry and her blood ran cold. They were on a ship. A spaceship. She was out of reach of anyone who could help her- anyone and everyone except the Doctor. Alex supposed that having him there ought to be a sort of comfort, but how did she know that the real man lived up to the reputation of his character?

“Money?” He was all but scoffing now, a lilt and roughness tainting his tone.

“Paschka, he wants Doctor Song,” she said with a small smile. She glanced at Alex and then her face shifted to that of disdain and spite. “Honestly, from all the information I collected I was expecting more of a fight.”

Alex’s mouth dropped open. “But I’m not-”

“-What does Paschka want with River?” the Doctor demanded, interrupting Alex before she could get much farther. He spat the name out like a bad wine. It was obvious that both parties knew exactly what they were dealing with. The only person out of the loop was Alex, and that unsettled her more than she cared to admit. She wanted to scream that she wasn’t River, to grab for answers and wrangle this whole thing back to a form she could manage.

Azira merely shrugged at the Doctor’s question, pacing a little. “Why should I tell you?”

“Azira...”

Alex hadn’t heard that tone from him yet. Dangerous, cold, no warmth, no affection, no humor or fear. Nothing. It was a complete vacuum of any emotion expect a threatening, murderous growl. It frightened her, reminded her what the Doctor was actually capable of. It sent shivers splintering down her spine.

The bounty hunter merely bent, kissed his cheek, and ruffled his hair. “It’s a pleasure, Doctor. You're just icing on the cake, really. Maybe, finally, I can retire and give up this life of crime.”

She then turned and left them alone again: the Doctor fuming and Alex confused and painfully, breathlessly scared.

 

 


	8. I Deem You Team TARDIS

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tick-tock, another second of time that Alex was in danger. Tick-tock, another second she was moving farther and farther out of reach. Tick-tock, and another that Matt’s heart was in his mouth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As promised, a new chapter posted, on time. This one's slightly shorter than usual, but that's mostly because it's a bit of a transition chapter. The next will be back to it's usual length. Here you guys go! I hope you enjoy this and you're all still interested.

 

The only sound was the clock ticking thunderously on the wall and the unsteady, frantic _push-squeak_ of Matt’s shoes against a too-clean floor. _Tick-tock_ , another second of time that Alex was in danger. _Tick-tock_ , another second she was moving farther and farther out of reach. _Tick-tock_ , and another that Matt’s heart was in his mouth. River, too, was just as worried. She stood there, graceful lines rippling with tension, face blank. One wouldn’t even know she was shaking with the effort of staying calm if it weren’t for the quivering of that storm of curls atop her head, and the turmoil in her midnight eyes.

Unsurprisingly, Karen was the first to say something. Her Scottish lilt broke through the crushing silence and yanked them all, forcibly, out of their inner fright.

“There has to be something we can do.”

“Best thing for Alex is for us to keep out of the Police’s way. They’ll find her,” Moffat reasoned, though he looked troubled about it. His mouth was drawn into a tight line, his eyebrows cinched together, arms stuffed against his chest as he leaned against the wall, fingers tapping by threes.

Arthur grabbed his friend’s arm and stopped him from pacing for half a second. “Matt, stop pacing, Mate, you’re not helping.”

Wrenching his arm away with ferocious speed, Matt kept on. Five steps to the door, fifteen back. “I can’t! Alex is out there, caught by some creep, possibly hurt, and you want me to stand still?”

Arthur looked reasonably chastened, but River unfolded her arms and shook her head, taking a deep breath. “The Doctor’s with her,” she reminded Matt, “He’ll keep her safe.”

“Oh,” Matt whirled on her and snapped, “Like he keeps you safe?”

That was cruel, he knew. River’s mouth opened, closed, and she simply stared at him with that same, blank expression. Perhaps the muscles in her face were a little drawn,  her eyes watched his, and her arms crossed defensively over her chest. River’s stance widened, as if in challenge, daring him to take that further, to just try and make her snap. But he didn’t. No, this wasn’t about how much River unsettled him. This was about Alex. About her safety... or lack thereof.

Even so, he didn’t miss the flinch that she allowed when he turned away.

And then she burst into action, dropping her arms and checking her belt, making a small dissapointed noise in the back of her throat. River’s eyes shot up to look at the other people in the room and then she started for the door.

Karen’s mouth dropped open. “Where do you think you’re going?”

“Back to Alex’s flat, I left my things there. I need my blaster, scanners, and vortex manipulator.”

Matt spun on his heel. “You’re going after them.”

River threw her hands up in the air, shooting them all a look of disdain. “You don’t expect me to just stand here while the Doctor’s in danger, do you?”

Nobody had an answer for her. Moffat probably wanted to tell her to leave it be, that the feds would get to it. But the trouble was... all of them knew what River was capable of. What she could do. How quickly she could travel. River was a trained assassin. There was no way any of them were stopping her from staging a rescue of one of their closest friends. To do that would be absolutely mad.

Arthur was already grabbing for his keys in his pocket, starting after her. “I’ll drive you,” he murmured, with a small, grateful smile touching the corners of his lips. Karen glanced at Moffat and then followed the two of them, taking Matt’s hand and tugging him out. Matt needed no persuasion, he was already stumbling along in his haste to get to the car. Out through the parking lot, into the car, and at the very last moment - Moffat got in with them. Matt shot him a grateful look and then pulled the door shut.

An agonizing car ride later, and they were gathered in Alex’s flat. It was painful how her scent pervaded the place - vanilla and peonies, or how there was still some Stevie Wonder playing on the radio, so softly that Matt hadn’t noticed before. Swallowing, he turned back to the small circle gathered around the couch. River was sliding her various weapons into holsters on her belt, and then strapped her vortex manipulator to her wrist, cinching it tight. There was the clink of the buckle fastening. Snatching her scanner up from where she’d left it on the coffee table, she pulled up the screen and started pressing buttons.

Moffat hovered behind her, obviously curious, but he backed away when River shot him a murderous glance that said she needed to concentrate, thank you very much. Finally, after a long, heavy silence filled only by River’s work, Arthur, always the polite one, asked: “What are you doing?”

“Locating the Doctor’s sonic,” she snapped back, “If the git hasn’t gone and left it somewhere.”

He nodded once, backing off to join Karen. Matt had started up pacing again, when a small buzz came on River’s device and her face lit up. “I’ve got him.”

They all simultaneously rushed over to see, but stopped when her scanner’s screen began to blurr. River frowned, hitting it lightly on the side and turning a dial. Then, another picture showed up on the screen and she gasped. Matt studied her face, seeing the recognition and horror there, and his stomach dropped to the floor. River’s eyes were wide, her breathing ragged, mouth slightly agape as she stared at the schematics of her screen.

“No.”

“What is it, what’s wrong?” Karen demanded, looking at the screen with a glance that made it look like if she stared at it long enough the device would tell her all its secrets.

River was silent for a long time. Then, the only thing she responded with was: “Zira.” Her hand was pressed to her mouth, and she shook her head, merely staring at her screen. Finally, she flung it aside and stuffed it into her bag. “I’m sorry, but this is quite out of your police’s hands.”

Moffat blinked at her. “What, why?”

“Zira is an intergalatic bounty hunter who’s out for my head.”

Karen let out a little squeak, Arthur uttered a forlorn: ‘Oh my god’, and Matt could only stand there and stare, his chest constricting painfully.

“She has Alex.”

River nodded, biting her lip.

Arthur cut frantic glances between all of them. He couldn’t quite believe it. None of them could. They were only just getting accustomed to the fact that the woman standing with them was not Alex, but some strange inter-universal twin. The Universe had hiccupped somewhere along the way, leaving them with someone who was so painfully not the dear friend they had expected. And now, they had to cope with the fact that the person who held them together and told dirty jokes and stole Arthur’s tea and gave Karen her coat when she was cold was kidnapped by some intergalactic mercenary? It would have almost been comforting had the person been an ordinary kidnapper from Earth. At least, then, they knew what to expect. At least then, they had the reassurance that Alex would be found somewhere on this planet. Now they didn’t even have that.

They just had River, and the vague reassurance of the Doctor.

“Where is she going to take them?” Moffat was asking once Matt had tuned back into the conversation.

River looked up at him. “Pashka, most likely. He’s a mob boss, of sorts. Been wanting the Doctor and I for ages.”

Matt was already snatching his coat from the peg. “I’m going with you.”

They all turned to stare at him. “What the bloody hell do you think you’ll do? Trip over her?” Karen demanded, eyes wide. “You’ll get yourself killed!”

“I can’t just sit here, Kaz!” Matt all but exploded, more from frustration than from the actual insult, which hadn’t actually registered in his over-worked brain. He shouted, arms flailing, “I have to do something!”

“Well, then we’re coming too,” Arthur said firmly, linking arms with Karen.

Karen blinked at him. “We are?”

“Yes, Kaz.”

River was looking at all of them, absolutely speechless, with the look on her face of a middle-school TA who’d been assigned to supervise the eighth-grade boys on a field trip to a dinosaur museum. “You could all die.”

Matt swallowed. “I don’t know about Karen and Arthur... but I don’t care.”

“Alex could too,” Arthur said, voice quiet, “And she would go for any one of us.”

At first, River seemed to try to decide something, taking a deep breath, weighing concerns and pros and cons. Her voice was strained as she spoke, fingertips tracing the outline of her vortex manipulator. “The travel’s going to be difficult. It’s... a possibility we might lose one or two of you just in the vortex, and the landing will be even worse.”

Karen looked at Arthur, and Arthur looked at Matt, and Matt looked at Moffat, as if he were the father deciding whether or not his children were tall enough to ride the loopy rollercoaster at an amusement park. Moffat threw his hands up in the air. “You’re all responsible adults. I’m staying behind to take care of the press.”

“Fine then.” Matt stepped forward, chin jutting out. There was no question in his mind. He’d be damned if he didn’t help rescue Alex, when given the chance. He wasn’t about to leave her to this... Zira. There was no telling what the woman might do, where she would take her, or what Paschka was like. Matt shuddered at the latter. “I’m going. Kaz, Arthur?”

“Still going.”

“Right, then,” Moffat said, herding them all over to River. “Good luck, don’t you dare get yourselves killed, or the whole season will go up in flames,” he was teasing, of course, to lighten the situation, but that didn’t hide the fear in his eyes or the tightness of his voice. “You’ll all be careful, and get Alex home safe.”

Matt swallowed and nodded. “Course we will, Moff.”

River instructed them to all hold onto each other as tightly as possible, and she began inputting coordinates into her vortex manipulator, and all of a sudden it hit Matt. They were going to fly through the vortex for real. This was the actuall, gritty, grimy, real thing. Not play-acting, but courting death. Not toying with the TARDIS, but going to rescue their best friend... Alex, he thought as a strange taste filled his mouth and his eyes watered. He could die doing this. But at least he would die trying to make sure she was safe. Alex had a daughter to get back to, a life. She was worth it. Worth this. Worth anything, always.

Moffat gave them a two fingered salute. “Good luck, team TARDIS.”

Matt nodded back with the bravest smile he could manage, and thought he heard River making incredulous noises about the nickname as suddenly, with a crackle of electricity, everything faded to gray... and then burst into a flash of blinding light and swirling color.


	9. Azira Mogsbane

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He could taste the bloodgrief and evaporating fear in the air, like sandpaper and vinegar. It smelled sour, and metallic, stinging his sensitive nose and causing his eyes to water. There was another scent too, one he knew all too well, iron mingled with pain and mixed with darkness and struggle- distinctly human, for the struggling bit- His eyes widened.  
> “Alex!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here, have an update one day early! I have to say I really enjoyed writing this one. It came exceptionally easy. I hope you guys enjoy it :) 
> 
> Also, for future reference: "zolotse" is a Russian petname meaning 'my little gold', or something thereabouts.

Oh, he’d buggered everything up. This wasn’t the first time the Doctor had been captive on Azira’s ship. It probably wasn’t the last, either, and his mind was wandering back to that time when he’d first met the two of them: Paschka and Azira. River and he had stumbled across a very valuable artifact, a mask created by the long dead playwright of the planet Emberslay, a mask that was at least three thousand years old, and had the ability to conform to the wearer’s face and obscure his or her identity by masking both his appearance and voice at will. It could morph into any face, any likeness the wearer wished, merely at a thought. Valuable indeed. Dangerous too, when in the hands of Azira. She’d whisked by and stolen it off them, and, well, stolen them. Kept the mask for herself and brought the Doctor to Paschka (because what self-respecting system lord didn’t want his head?) and River had shot a hole through the lord’s shoulder, downed his craft, and drank all the expensive scotch in one afternoon. Thus had begun their feud with Paschka: system lord of the nine worlds, and the deadly but beautiful Azira Mogsbane.

The door was bolted shut, sending a clang reverberating through the room and mingling with the thrum of the ship’s engines beneath his legs. It shocked the Doctor back to the present. He could taste the bloodgrief and evaporating fear in the air, like sandpaper and vinegar. It smelled sour, and metallic, stinging his sensitive nose and causing his eyes to water. There was another scent too, one he knew all too well, iron mingled with pain and mixed with darkness and struggle- distinctly human, for the struggling bit- His eyes widened.

“Alex!”

She was sniffling, nose red, eyes wide and a wet gray as she attempted to work her hands out of the restraints. Her face was a little hazy, the mist of drugs still hanging over her head- he knew. River had reacted much the same to them, the human parts of her chemistry certainly not mixing well with whatever Azira had drugged her with. A trickle of blood slithered down Alex’s left wrist and thumb and the Doctor squeaked, sitting bolt upright.

“Stop that,” he said firmly, attempting best he could to wrap his long fingers around hers and still her movements. “You’re hurting yourself.”

He could feel her one-hearted pulse beneath his fingertips. It raced at breakneck speed and her head whipped to look up at him, one curl lashing at his cheek. “I need to get home.”

“Those are made of semi-sentient yellismian solid alloy,” the Doctor snapped, a bit more sharply than he intended, and he paused and took deep breath and began again. “The more you move, the more it will tighten. You can’t get out of them, so please stop... you could cut your hands off.”

Defeat dawned darkly in her eyes and she went lax, her face falling forward to rest on his shoulder with a dull thud and he felt her shudder. His right heart ached, stuttering a little ahead of his left. He wanted to pull her into a hug, and couldn’t.

So he merely dipped down and pressed a kiss to her curls and then rested his cheek on them. She didn’t smell like River. River smelled like gunsmoke and roses and time energy. Alex smelled like lime and afternoon coffee and a faint hint of vanilla.

He could feel the shoulder of his jacket becoming a bit damp and the Doctor bit his lip hard. “...Alex- I am... so sorry,” he murmured.

“I have a daughter. I want to go home and see her again.” Her voice was thick, tense with the effort not to shake.

He nodded against her head, puffing out a stream of hair that moved one curl and blew it away. He watched it flutter to a rest, quivering with the others as Alex shook against him. His thumb rubbed gentle circles over what parts of her hand that he could reach, and his eyes found the rough, red-stained metal of the door as he spoke. “I know. And I will get you home, Alex, I promise. But to do that I need you to calm down.”

The Doctor would get her back. She had a life to get back to, a family that needed her. Friends- and that Matt-fellow. He wasn’t going to let her die without giving that Matt-fellow a slap upside the head and a good lecture about not wasting time when it came to beautiful, worthwhile women. Alex deserved that much. Just like all of them. They all deserved to be safe and happy, and as much as he liked taking them with him- somehow they always ended up paying the price for his mistakes. It was hardly fair. Hardly just of the Universe to hurt them when he was the one that dragged them along in the first place. For once, he just wished the Universe to play nice. The Doctor wouldn’t forgive himself if something happened to Alex too.

There was only one way that either of them were going to make it out of this alive, the Doctor knew. And he cringed at asking her to do it... but there was nothing else. River would come, he was sure. She’d probably caught wind of trouble in that way of hers and was tracking them down. He trusted her to be there for him just as he was there for her. But until then, he and Alex would have to hang on and play a part in a freakish charade.

She was stilling against him. The pulse against the pads of his thumb and forefinger was slowing as he stroked over it, comforting her, and her breathing was becoming more regular. He judged it the right time to bring his thoughts up.

“Alex, now, I need you to listen very carefully.”

Her breath hitched in her chest when she caught the firmness and tightness in his tone, and the Doctor let out a breath before continuing.

“Neither Paschka nor Azira have any respect for life. If either of us are of no use to them, they will not hesitate to simply kill us,” he said slowly, carefully enunciating each word and weighing them out on his tongue. He didn’t want to frighten her too badly, but this was important. “They can’t know that you’re not actually River.”

He felt her ripple with tension beneath him, and then she snapped up, forehead catching his jaw and he blinked rapidly at the pain that shot through his head, eyes watering. “Dear Gallifrey!”

“Sorry- I-” she bit her lip, and he could tell she wanted to reach up to make sure he was okay. But then her expression swam and changed to complete and utter horror. “You can’t ask me to do that, Doctor. I can’t!”

“Yes you can!” he cajoled, voice rising about half an octave and going all breathy with insistent praise. “You can absolutely do it. I know you can.”

“On screen, with a script!”

“Off-screen, I saw you!”

Alex rolled her eyes. “That was with a group of fans,” she hissed, “I can’t add-lib when my life is on the line for it.”

“I could barely tell the difference and River is my wife,” the Doctor said firmly. “I know you can do it Alex. You have to.” He paused and then fished around in his brain, taking a deep breath before saying: “Do it for your daughter.”

That was low and cruel and a little manipulative. But manipulation in times of need was what the Doctor did best. He watched her mouth open and close several times as she sought for a comeback before her eyes misted over and her lower lip trembled.

“I’m scared.”

Oh, that hurt.

Her voice was so small, so broken, and the admission sounded strange and foreign to his ears coming from a voice he was used to hearing taunts and flirtation and insults from. But this wasn’t River. This was Alex. And she was so terrifyingly human and vulnerable and his responsibility, and damn it all- he knew he was asking too much of her. He always did of everyone. But that was because he’d seen what humans could do.

He licked his lips, bending down to kiss her forehead. Then, he pulled back, left wanting, unable to wipe away the tear that streaked down her cheek without her bidding. “Such a resilient race, human beings,” he murmured, “You lot have survived thousands of years, adapting to various conditions on that tiny little volatile planet of yours- and you, Alex,” he watched another tear slide down her cheek, “Why, I bet you’ve been through hell. I can see it in your eyes sometimes. You look so sad. But you still fell right into my TARDIS and yelled at me and called me an idiot,” he laughed, “And you stood and stared out into the Hammerstag Nebula and you didn’t run away screaming. You accepted a truth that so many might reject, even if it was right in front of their eyes. You’re brilliant, you are, Alexandra. You’re human. And humans always find something to hold on to. There’s this silly little stupid thing called hope. Hope,” he laughed, “Is an impossible thing you lot made up. An impossible, frightening, powerful thing that belongs to you alone. And that’s why I like you all so much... because that’s what you’ve got. Irrationalities and hope and that’s what makes you all so wonderful.” He paused, looking down into her eyes. She’d quieted, her lower lip still trembling in an effort to reign in her emotions and he wondered if that was her nature or a reflex forced by years of experience. “I am so old... you know that, I’ve lived so long. And I have seen humans do incredible, mad things, impossible things that the Time Lords couldn’t touch. They’ve fought Daleks and won, and wrapped their little minds around the incomprehensible, and stared into the heart of the TARDIS, and gone with me to the end of the Universe. They’ve traveled through time and evaded death... and saved me. You all did.”

He took a breath. “So trust me, Alexandra, when I say that I know you can do this. I believe with all my heart that you are absolutely, completely brave enough. You’re all brave. No- don’t speak- you are... this Universe’s River Song. And you are every bit as kickass-” he paused, “No, definitely never saying that again, but the point still stands- you are every bit as brilliant as she is, in your own way. So don’t you dare go telling yourself what you can and can’t do. Just trust me, we’ll get home safely, can you do that?”

She was quiet for a very long time, processing his big long rambling speech and he knew he’d just poured his heart out to a woman he’d only met that morning, but he didn’t care. She was his responsibility, and so much like River it hurt. And he would not let anything or anyone harm her while she was with him.

Finally, she swallowed thickly and nodded, leaning her head back on the Doctor’s shoulder. He smiled and rested his cheek on top of her nest of curls, and was quite sure that she wouldn’t disappoint. No... sometimes he got a feeling about people. And right now, right now the Doctor just knew that Alex would surprise him.

She already had.

 

*********

 

The planet in the distance seemed to be rotting from the core out. It had a watery center that leaked through to the city-encrusted surface, giving it the appearance of a metal water-cooler that had gone off, developed a bad case of eczema, and was now oozing its ruined contents. This was Grendel: the first of the nine planets ruled by Paschka, his capitol. Azira altered her course, favoring starboard, and her ship groaned with the sudden change. She was aiming for the grand docking bay at the base of a tall, assuming tower, spires jutting into the hazy atmosphere. Clouds swirled around the planet, sheathing it in rain and thunder, and she knew she’d soon be driving in that mess. The thought of it filled her with dread.

Her intercom buzzed and she let out a long-suffering sigh. That would be Paschka wondering what she had for him this time.

He would be pleased.

She reached up and flipped on the signal to her screen, glancing up to see the thin, angular man giving her a wide grin.

“Privet, Zolotse.”

“Lord Paschka, it’s been too long,” she said, the tone of her voice belying that it certainly hadn’t been anywhere near long enough.

He took a sip of his alcohol and then sat back in the chair, wooden, nothing too extravagant. The extravagance belonged to his choice of drink and his way with words. “I trust you have brought me something better than that sniveling little harlequin from last month?”

“Quite,” she snipped back, rolling her eyes, “I’ll want half the pay wired to me before I land, though.”

“You’re in no position to make demands on me, Zolotse.”

She sighed a little, wincing and reaching up to rub at her neck as she drove at a pleasurable pace. “Once you see what I have in my hold I think you’ll be singin’ a different tune.”

“Oh really?”

“Mm,” she nodded in affirmation. With a flick of a manicured finger, she sent him the video feed.

Azira could pinpoint the exact moment when it struck him. A cheshire grin smoothed over his sharp features and he looked back at her with a new gleam in his eye that made her chest stutter with fright. “Half the pay is wired.”

A little chime from her ship let her know that he wasn’t lying this time, and she gave him a matching grin. “Well then, I’ll bring them in and you can set me up with the rest.”

“Always a pleasure,” he purred.

She shut off the feed and the smile on her face faded. “Always a pain in the ass,” she said to the feed, as if he were still listening. Azira spurred her engines from their sleepy drawl, and they squealed as she accelerated towards the docking bay. If this job went smooth, she might even have her freedom.

But when did a job ever go smooth?


	10. Our Personal Trojan Horse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> River chuckled in the back of her throat and snapped her leather glove with a resounding crack for effect. “You’re not on earth anymore, honey.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I realize this is almost a full week late, and I apologize profusely. Work and school have been slowly eating up my life to the point where I don't have time to even do people things- like eating and sleeping and talking with friends. So basically, this chapter was written on the train and on work breaks. That's why it took so long :-/ At this pace my life is at right now, we'll try one more week of the week-long measuring stick, and if I'm still pressed for time then we might have to shift the stick to a two-week deadline (which I'm loathe to do, but my life is simply not allowing time for writing and it's not fair to you to leave you hanging).  
> Anyway! The chapter is here now, and I'm quite proud of it. I hope you all enjoy :)

When they fizzled back into existence, River immediately turned to get her sights on the others. She was relieved to count three heads: brunet, blond, and ginger, looking no worse for the wear. All limbs were accounted for, though each looked rather like a bug-eyed rabbit who’d been tossed through a snowstorm, fur-less. Their surprised faces were lit in the peculiarly orange half-light of the city. The sun was just going down, leaving only the street-lamps floating like ghostly, disembodied fireflies at regular intervals along the narrow street.

She watched as a visible shudder wracked Matt’s body. He stuck his tongue out like a cobra testing the air. Karen and Arthur followed suit a few seconds later. River hardly noticed the aftershocks anymore, but she was still extremely relieved to find that her new companions seemed to be otherwise fine. One time-agent was said to have lost his recent memories and declare himself the crown king of Spain every time he used a manipulator- which was problematic on missions to say the least- and when multiples were traveling, losing appendages was not uncommon.

“Alright,” River began with a little sigh and a reassuring smile, “All here?” The nodded as River slipped on a pair of black gloves and seemed to magically procure three more pairs from her nonexistent pockets. She tossed them to Karen, Matt, and Arthur. “Let’s do this, shall we?”

“Uh, where exactly are we?” Arthur asked, his eyebrows knitting together as he caught the gloves and fumbled to put them on. Next to him, Karen let out a girly yelp, one glove hitting her square in the face.

She had been supposed to catch that. River shot her an apologetic smile. “Sorry, Love.” Then, “We’re on Grendel.”

“What, like the monster... you know, in Beowulf?” Matt slipped on his gloves. River looked shocked. Matt merely shrugged. “What? Read it once.”

Still looking a bit leery at him, River checked for the blaster strapped to her thigh and shook her head. “No, the planet.”

“Planet, what?” Karen’s eyes grew to the size of small grapefruits.

River could see where this was going quite easily- she chuckled in the back of her throat and snapped her leather glove with a resounding crack for effect. “You’re not on earth anymore, honey.” Sobering, River continued, “Paschka owns nine planets. Grendel is his capital, so to speak. There’s a palace...somewhere,” she glanced down the dimly lit street as if that might give her an answer. “If I can figure out where we are.”

“Hang on,” Arthur stepped forward, that confused unkempt-chipmunk face on again, “What do you mean ‘if you can figure out where we are’?”

“Well, the manipulator isn’t always perfect-” a strangled sound from Matt- “But, if I’m right, and I usually am, Paschka’s Capitol ought to be just northeast, up the River a bit.”

“Right then,” Matt said with a very business-like tone that made the corners of River’s mouth twitch.

That faded when she took in their expectant faces, wanting her to lead them forward on unfamiliar ground. River remembered her main worry: her worry about bringing along these three. What would she do with them once they were inside? River felt a little like a mother duck bringing her ducklings to a crocodile pit. A fear was forming in the pit of her stomach and twisting knots, turning her throat to sandpaper, that she wouldn’t be able to keep track of them all. Sure, she’d led her fair share of expeditions riddled with rather useless academics and their crew and students, but not into anything so dangerous as this. Paschka was ruthless. Any number of them might die and there was a chance they’d never bring Alex or the Doctor back, or even that they’d be captured and killed themselves. River admitted, she loved risk and thrill for herself- but when others were involved it was extremely difficult for her to be comfortable with the idea. She’d do everything in her power to make sure they all got home safe. But, River knew that she’d consider them lucky if just a few of them managed to get home in one piece.

She realized she’d turned away to think and forced every tensed muscle to ripple down into relaxation with one deep breath. A bright smile spread across her face. River turned.

“Right! Well, since I’m a wanted person in Paschka’s world, we’ll not be taking the road.” She crossed the alley to a fire escape and starting up the ladder. “Follow me.”

 

**********

 

The air was bittersweet; it almost smelled like cinnamon. But there was a hint of something else: metal and fuel and gunsmoke. Azira tried not to breathe it too deeply. Her nose wrinkled and her mouth burned at the scent and taste of it. She turned away from ship’s core to return to the dark interior. There was no comforting thrum of engines to greet her, and the solace of the hull fell flat. Here in Grendel, retreating into her ship to find peace and safety was equivalent to a naive child throwing his blanket over his head in hopes it would protect him from a killer. Stupid, but downright deadly was more accurate.

Crossing back to the cockpit, Azira leaned over the console and began flipping switches. A few lights down the center hall burst to life, bathing the corridor in pale, slithering, red light. She turned and pulled a carefully packaged box and two syringes from a nearby cupboard before starting down the hallway.

She pressed a button and a beep signaled the door to the cargo hold open. Stepping inside, the oppressive silence was replaced by two rhythms of steady breathing: the Doctor’s and River’s. Azira slipped in quietly- quite the opposite of her earlier entrance meant to intimidate her cargo. Now she merely shut the door behind her and leaned against the cool, rust-roughened metal, waiting to be noticed. River was asleep again, probably due to the sedatives that wouldn’t leave her system for the next few hours. Azira learned in their first encounter it was best to keep the woman drugged. What struck Azira the most, however, was the postures of between the sleeping form and the Doctor. River was curled in on herself, tucked into her husband’s side with her head resting in the crook of his neck - a strange, foreign admission of vulnerability that made Azira’s lip curl, her eyes flash with envy, and her chest painfully hitch. What was more, even bound and at rest the Doctor still maintained an air of protectiveness- a warden of her sleep and safety. His head rested on hers, eyes looking down over her as she slept, body oriented towards her, back turned slightly toward the door like a wall between her and Azira. If the tension in his shoulders was any indication, he would encastle his wife in his arms if he could. Azira hated him for it.

She shoved herself off of the door and stormed over to where they sat huddled on the floor, and threw an arm on his shoulder, yanking him back. River woke immediately, disoriented and frightened.

Much better.

The Doctor let out an angry growl and made as if to stand, or move back towards her, or even to lash out at Azira but she pushed him against the wall first, making her intention clear.

“Stay there if you want me to keep you together,” Azira snapped. “I’m sure the next room over would be just as comfortable for her as it is here.”

She watched his eyes widen and his adam’s apple bob. He glanced back at River. There was a fear in his eyes at the notion that almost made her feel guilty. And for that she knelt and pulled out the first syringe.

“What is that?” came the first time River had spoke since her outburst, voice shaking- but Azira could tell she was fighting to steady it. Yes, be brave- or try- both were in vain. Azira would like to see her put on a front like that in the face of all Paschka would love to do when he got his hands on her.

**********

With a little shrug, Arthur was the first to crawl up the ladder after River. Matt nodded to Karen, giving her a little smile and gestured to the ladder as if to say ‘ladies first!’ Kaz rolled her eyes, heaved a sigh, and went up.

Finally, all three were standing on the roof with River. Karen was the first to breathe an expletive at the sight of the city laid out before them, all centered around the shining spires of what could only be the Capitol rising like some kind of scaly monster from a marsh. How fitting, River thought with a little twist of a smile. The mist swirled around it, much like night-fog had around the monster in Beowulf as he skulked toward the gift-hall to take his kill. The roots of the building were surrounded by a massive wall, settled with sentries and alight with red and gold lights that, through the fog, gave the effect of a Monet. Up in the sky, the moon was shrouded in a bed of clouds, leaving only its ghost behind, shining through the cover to bathe the area in pale light.

It was like a city out of a ghastly fairytale.

River started toward the next rooftop, leaping lithely across and then turning to reach for the next person. Arthur and Matt herded Karen to the edge. She closed her eyes tightly and then, with a jumpstart from the boys, pushed off from the roof to jump. River caught her, taking her hand the small of her back and hauling her back up to a safe foothold.

“You alright?” she asked, giving her a little smile.

Karen straightened, thumbing the lapels of her jacket. “‘course.” But she was breathing hard.

River gave her a smile and then turned to see Matt flailing across the gap. He sprawled on the tiles and then helped himself up, whipping his fringe out of his eyes. Arthur was last and he made the jump the most easily of the three, leaping with odd grace and catching Matt’s outstretched hand to haul himself up onto the roof.

They crossed the roofs much the same way as they headed towards those spires: River first, Karen second, then Matt and Arthur pausing to argue about who would go next. After one incident where Matt nearly slipped down the roof, Arthur went before him so he was able to pull the other man up.

Finally, there was a point where they ran out of rooftop to jump and the city seemed to fall into an abyss of darkness. The pit was rimmed by a massive wall, so dark and with the kind of misty sheen that it looked like a coil of sable with winking lights strewn across. Out of a floor of nightmist rose those glistening spires - so huge and so near River felt like she could touch them. They twisted to the sky, their tops disappearing in thundering cloud-cover.

Figures moved like shades in the fog, and River’s eyes followed them.

“So, now what?” someone spoke from behind.

It was Arthur, of course. Matt was quiet and brooding and Karen was still shaking from the height. River took a breath and opened her mouth to speak, looking back at the wall. That was a very good question. What was the plan? Gaze darting back and forth, eyes narrowing, River put one foot forward and leaned over the edge of the rooftop to get a better view. It was hard to see through the mist, but it looked a little like there were cars (or at least vehicles of some sort), in a motor pool outside. The vehicles drove to the front gate and were scanned before being let through. Slowly, a plan began to take form in River’s mind. She glanced back at her expectant comrades and wet her lips, a smirk ghosting across her mouth.

“Ever heard of the Trojan Horse?”

She took their anticipant stares as a cue. Quickly, River explained her plan to them. They would catch a waiting vehicle, hijack it (which Matt had said, not unkindly, “Oh, you know all about that, don’t you?”), and then simply drive in. She dearly hoped security did not check the drivers too thoroughly. Arthur had volunteered to drive, as neither Matt nor River could afford to sit in the front. They just couldn’t risk their being recognized.

River bade them to wait. She would procure the car and drive it close to the building. The others were to come down and get in after her.

As she climbed, almost in a spider-like fashion, down the side of the building via another fire-escape, a thrill ran through her body. Yet there was a cold chill speeding up her spine as well. Not an ice-cold fear for herself- she’d be fine- but for them. The chance of being spotted while coming down was high. There was also a chance of River herself being caught even before she reached the cars. Or in the process of stealing one, for that matter. If she were- they’d be stranded here with no way home. This gave her extra care as she crept along the shadowy street and applied a fresh coat of lipstick.

It wasn’t long before she met the first security- little more than a red laser tripwire on the ground and a few guards. With kitten footsteps, she padded over the tripwire and then curled into a roll, darting behind a black, sleek-looking, closed craft. While getting in would be no problem- leaving the motor pool with the car would be quite another creature entirely, River knew. Slowly, she slithered up to a standing position and leaned in the window of the machine. The chauffeur was sitting there boredly reading a map. River drummed her manicured nails on the open window with a loud rat, tat, tat, tat, tat, and his eyes widened. He spun to look at her and his mouth fell open.

Before he could say anything, River pressed one finger to his lips with a coy smile. His fingers were already moving to a button that looked to be an alarm of some sort, but her other hand reached to gently push it away. She leaned in and captured his lips in a kiss and felt him relax against her.

She noticed a few emptied dumpsters behind her and dragged him over, slipping him in there. She dusted off her hands with a little smile. He’d be thinking that was his car for the next few hours or so. River retrieved the cardkey and ID from his pockets and opened the door of the car, slipping neatly inside.

Now to figure out how to drive the thing. Shouldn’t be too hard, right?

After finding the appropriate slot, she slipped the cardkey inside. The engine, or whatever it was that run these things, woke, the dash lighting up. The front computer turned on and River sat back in the seat, relaxing into it and taking a firm grip on the steering wheel.

However, when an automatic voice from above her said: “Autopilot drive- to Capitol. Time estimation: 20 minutes.” River jumped, eyes widening.

“What? No! Damn!” They couldn’t be on autopilot! She had to pick up the others! She slammed a fist into the steering wheel as the car started moving and then tried to steer in vain. When that didn’t work, she began punching buttons. There had to be a way to turn the autopilot off. Frantically, River cut glances between the guards waiting expectantly at the gate to the motor pool- who were getting closer by the second- and the computer screen. The car was making all sorts of noises. She pressed a button- a buzz. She pressed another- a cupholder flew out from the side. Another, and the windshield merely tinted.

“C’mon, C’mon...”

She was almost to the guards, and they were giving her some very funny looks. Which River supposed were probably due to the fact that her headlights were flashing. She slammed the button she had just pushed into off position- and found the lights had returned to normal. There, that was one thing figured out. Autopilot. Where the hell was Autopilot? This shouldn’t be that hard to find! Who had designed this thing, anyway?

The car came to an automatic stop and River’s eyes squeezed shut, fingers hovering over the controls and beginning to shake. No, no, no. She knew a guard was walking over to check her ID and she fumbled for something, anything.

Hallucinogenic lipstick.

All it needed was skin-to skin contact.

River grabbed the tube and twisted up the stick, sliding the substance all over the ID. She heard a sharp rap on her window and capped the lipstick, stuffing it inside her pocket. Then, she pressed herself back into the seat, out of view for as long as possible as she rolled down the window and handed him the ID card, careful not to touch the lipstick on the bottom herself.

This had to work- for all their sakes.

It seemed like agonizing minutes before she felt him take the card. He made a small, disgusted noise in the back of his throat and moved to wipe off his hands on his pants but those few seconds of holding the card were all the lipstick needed to work. With a glance at River and a scan of the card into his machine, he gave her a nod and motioned for her to go through.

River let out a breath and felt the tension melt away. She took the card and gave him a smile. Wiping off the lipstick with her handkerchief, she tossed the cloth behind her before rolling up the window as the car proceeded to drive itself on.

Now for that autopilot...

River knew that once she got past the building there was no turning back. To turn the car around would cause too many questions and bring too much attention on them. She had to sort this out, and she had to do it now. This machine had better have breaks.


	11. Paschka's Court

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They crossed into a shadow. And that shadow was cast by the most imposing building in the city. It rose through the misty lights and mizzle to scrape the sky, like the needle on the spindle in the auld fairytale, ready and hungering to draw blood. That was where Azira seemed to be leading them. It was perfectly clear that Alex would have to stay as calm as she could and trust The Doctor- there was no other option.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a day late, but not a dollar short- I hope. Here's the next chapter. It seems that the two-week measuring stick is about what my schedule can handle right now for the type of chapters I'm putting up. So you guys have two options: 1) I keep writing this length of chapter and post roughly every two weeks, or 2) I write shorter chapters and post every week.  
> Reader's choice!  
> (though honestly I'm not sure if any of you want the second one, these chapters are short enough as they are).  
> Thanks to all who are sticking with this fic. I know it's stupidly long, but I enjoy writing it and get really into it :) It's nice to know that others are enjoying it as well.

Alex felt sick as she stared at the needles and syringes Azira was laying out in front of them. She held her breath, waiting for either the bounty hunter or the Doctor to say something - anything. But no answer came. She wanted, needed to know what to expect so she could prepare herself. At this point, Alex had little to no idea what was really going on. It was the most frightening, uncomfortable position she had ever been in in her entire life. Nothing came close.

Azira filled the syringe and flicked it once with all the air of a medical professional. The needle glistened with one, menacing bead of liquid that made Alex’s heart do flipflops. She swallowed hard, and glanced over to see the Doctor’s adam’s apple bob up and down as well.

“Answer the question, Azira,” the Doctor ground out, his glare cutting between her, Alex, and the needle.

“Last I checked,” the bounty hunter began in a conversational tone, “You’re the one in my grip, Doctor. I don’t answer to you. Now, which of you’s gonna be first?”

With a breath, the Doctor ground out: “Me.”

She nodded and stood, walking over to him. Alex watched with fear and worry as she tipped his head back, exposing the double-pulsing jugular vein. She wiped down the skin, and Alex could hear his sharp intake, see the rise and fall of his chest, the skin around his eyes tightening as the needle was plunged into the vein.

Satisfied, Azira let him go and stepped back. Alex stared at the Doctor with breath entangled, half expecting him to topple over like a shattered idol from an altar. A few moments passed and she was aware of Azira walking toward her, but she couldn’t keep her eyes off of the Doctor. Finally, however, his breathing calmed and he gave her a smile. He was fine. Probably had something to do with his Time Lord biology. But shouldn’t Azira know about that? Especially if they had history...

Those wonderings were quickly forgotten when sharp pain bit into her scalp. Her head was torn back by her hair, and then there was the sharp tang of a needle forced into her skin. Alex’s eyes jerked wide open and she had just enough semblance of mind to bite back her shocked, strangled gasp. River would have barely flinched. Strike one.

Get it together, woman.

Azira dusted her hands off and packed each item indvidually away in the case. Alex kept waiting for her head to swim- why wasn’t it swimming yet? Why didn’t she feel any effects of the drug? What had she been given? She had so many questions she wanted to ask, so many worries... but slowly, she stuffed them to the back burner and threw on a mask: a guarded glare. Her chin lifted defiantly as she turned her head back to a normal, upright position. Each breath, she measured.

Azira’s shoved the drugs into a locked cabinet and then turned on her heel, stalking back toward them with calculated purpose. “It’s time we went to see Paschka,” she said, “Up.”

With reluctance, they both stood, neither keen on being dragged up by the woman- as it was obvious she was ready to do if they weren’t compliant, or compliant fast enough. Azira then procured three bracelets. One she snapped on her wrist, the second on Alex’s, the third on the Doctor’s.

“Just in case you get it in your little noggins that you might want to run off,” she said in by way of explanation. It made no sense to Alex, but the bracelet circled her wrist as if it were alive, and briefly she wondered if it was that semi-sentient-whatever metal the Doctor had warned her of. Would this cut off her hand if she tried to escape? Alex eyed it mistrustfully, then realized that Azira was walking. She rounded the hall, and the bracelet tightened. It wound tighter, tighter still around her wrist until she made a small noise of pain. Her legs stirred to action, and she more or less stumbled after the Doctor and Azira her first dose of drugs still present in her system.

The doors of the craft they were in were open, and Alex was hit with her first gust of alien air. It made her throat burn. It smelled of grinding metal and blue smoke. The Doctor wrinkled his nose at it, and she realized it must be a billion times worse for him- superior Gallifreyan sense of smell, and all that. She was noticing that, bit by bit, as they followed the dark silhouette of their captor, the bracelets were loosening. Not so much that they could be removed, but enough to be no longer uncomfortable. It was a clever piece of machinery, and if she wasn’t being imprisoned by it, Alex would’ve been impressed.

Even if the bracelets didn’t impress her- the view stole her breath away and sent chills down her spine. This was nothing like acting on set. Nothing like watching Doctor Who. She was quite sure that no writer could ever think of a world so bizarre, so richly detailed, to encompass the real thing. It was like a darkened, rotten Venice, with gondolas gliding up and down a styx-like river, seeming not to touch it in the half-light, creating a spellbinding illusion of ghost-ships. Her eyes followed the line of the twisted buildings across the water to the sky, where tens of hundreds of spacecrafts flitted about in rows like an organized swarm of angry hornets beneath the eerie, too-close, ringed moon.

They crossed into a shadow. And that shadow was cast by the most imposing building in the city. It rose through the misty lights and mizzle to scrape the sky, like the needle on the spindle in the auld fairytale, ready and hungering to draw blood. It was a witchy set of towers. And unfortunately, that was where Azira seemed to be leading them. Her hands felt empty, cold, clammy. She longed to twist out of the bindings and the bracelet to grasp the Doctor’s hand, to feel the reassurance, to know that at least one of them had done this before. He’d said he’d run into Paschka. He must have visited this planet. He had history in dealing with these people. Alex would have to stay as calm as she could and trust him- there was no other option.

****

*********

****

Not too far away, on the other side of the palace, a streak of silver whizzed along the road. If River knew how close she was to accomplishing what she’d come to the planet for, she’d be even more frustrated than she already was. If one had been inside, one could hear her screaming obscenities in ancient languages. She reached for one, then the other button, working out through process of elimination and logic which ones worked and did what.

Stop! Stop stopstopstop!

The vehicle came to a grinding halt.

What.

River took her hands off of everything. Her eyes widened and she blinked once, twice, looking and feeling just about the most confused she had ever felt in her entire life. What had she pushed? She had no idea how to replicate the action, but at least, thank God, she might have possibly gotten if off of autopilot.

And then the automated voice came in overhead: “Awaiting command.”

Wait...

Was it telepathic?

“Oh, you have got to be joking! All this time, and you’re a voice-telepathic interface?” River screeched. No wonder all the buttons had seemed useless! Lights, cup holders, music, even a goddamn food materializer with a menu. This made so much more sense.

“Unknown command.”

River rolled her eyes and reached up to rub at her temples.

“Manual drive, please.”

“Ampersand vehicles can reach speeds of 600 miles per hour, manual drive is not advisable-”

“Access manual drive, now!” River snapped, quickly growing impatient. She doubted the last word had any weight where this was concerned, but it made her feel better, expressed her sense of urgency. Thankfully, there was the tell-tale sound of the steering wheel being loosened, and River gripped it and gave it one, experimental turn. The vehicle banked a smooth, soft right. She tried pressing the brakes, and it slowed. A slow, cheshire grin spread across her features. This thing handled beautifully.

She settled back in the seat with the nonchalance and ease she’d had before the whole catastrophe began and glided over to where Arthur, Karen, and Matt were waiting.

Slowly, her breath was beginning to stop hitching and her heart slowed to a soft flutter as the doors opened and the other three clambered inside the craft. Arthur looked around with something of appreciative amazement.

“Good ride you fetched, River.”

He seemed genuinely impressed, and that made her smile. She nodded once. “Thanks-” she trailed off, about to end with ‘dad’, but then, no... he wasn’t dad. And her smile faded and she glanced over at the rest of them. “Alright, I’ll drive it up to the checkpoint, but then somebody’s going to have to switch. The check cards and I can’t be seen. Neither can Matt.”

Arthur nodded. “So Karen and I’ll take the front when that comes. For now, c’mon moonface, to the backseat with us.”

“Why?” Karen looked displeased at being forced to sit in the back, and therefore miss the view of the alien city.

Arthur answered with a vicious jab in the ribs, then dragged her back and shut the door behind him, leaving Matt and River alone in awkward, heavy silence. Matt looked as if he wanted to slink into the back himself, but then thought better of it and slumped into the shotgun chair with a little sigh. His fingers reached out to poke at a control idly, and River smacked them away.

“Ow!”

“I’m driving.”

“I was just looking.”

“All the buttons do something. For all I know you could’ve set off the car alarm. No touching.”

He made a small, irate noise in the back of his throat and folded his arms across his chest like a petulant twelve year old and River snorted. They drove in uncomfortable silence after that, the lights of the city whizzing by. The checkpoint grew ever nearer. It was unnerving, being so close to him. She could smell his cologne, like pine trees and something else distinctly male- and so not the Doctor. Not her Doctor. And when he stole glances over at her, he looked through her. Not as she’d expected her Doctor might- with a blank, unrecognizing stare, but in a completely different way. It was in the way that a child might stare at a piece of broccoli and wish it to be cake.

She felt her chest wind at the thought and her knuckles whitened on the steering wheel.  Gritting her jaw, she kept her eyes on the road, not daring to look up into those young eyes that were supposed to be old.

Matt kicked at the edge of the vehicle and then, murmured something she didn’t register until a few seconds later. River blinked and then frowned.

“What?”

“I’m sorry.”

Her breath hitched in her throat and she had to turn to look at him. He sounded like a kicked puppy, looked more like a kitten deprived his ball of string. River couldn’t work out what suddenly led him to apologize, nor what he was apologizing for. She shook her head and returned her eyes to the road, making a clean swerve round a dip in the pavement, and not budging an inch when they passed a driver going the opposite direction.

There was no thrum from the vehicle to fill the uncomfortable silence. But honestly, River didn’t know what to say. She couldn’t very well accept an apology if she had no idea what it was for. And she supposed she was a little daft for not knowing, but River was neither used to receiving apologies nor giving them. It was a foreign thing.

“I... shouldn’t have said those things about you,” he elaborated slowly, “You’re wonderful, River, you’re brilliant. And I’m sorry for hurting you.”

“You didn’t-”

“-Yes I did. I’m not the Doctor, Alex. I’m not so wrapped up in my own pain that I can’t see others’.”

“He doesn’t-”

“-Yeah, he really does.”

“Stop interrupting me.”

“Stop saying daft things.” He turned more fully towards her. “When you’re upset, and you’re hurt- you do that thing...”

River arched an eyebrow. What was he going on about? “That thing?” she scoffed.

Matt huffed in his attempt to articulate his meaning. “You... you become blank. Unreadable, but if the person who’s hurt you turns away, even for a second, then that mask slips and you flinch. Just once. You hardly notice it, but it’s there... you’re that good. So good, in fact, that you’ve tricked yourself into thinking you can hide the damage. But you can’t. No more than it’s possible to hide the crater from a bomb blast.”

“Incredibly poetic, darling, but entirely inaccurate.”

He needed to stop. The more he spoke, the more River ached. However, it would seem that this upstart baby giraffe had no intent on stopping or letting her think for one moment that she was right. He barrelled on, insisting that he was right, that he knew, that he was sorry- that he’d hurt her and that she was brilliant. And he kept going, mentioning memories that were private and painful that he shouldn’t know about. Words rolled off his tongue, 1969, Manhattan, breaking her wrist, damage.

And finally, just fifty feet short of her goal, the car screeched to a halt and River whirled on Matt.

“Shut up.”

“Make me.”

“Maybe I will!” River snapped.

And then she gasped and sat back, her chest heaving once in one great intake of breath and she never let it out. Her hands covered her face and she felt fingertips whispering across her arm.

“...River.”

No.

That tone, that touch. Too similar. To wrong on this little boy who wanted to play the man. River snatched her arm away and shot out of her seat. She whirled and turned to the cabin to go fetch Arthur. It was time to anyway.

“River!” he called after her, the way he drew out her name- oh, she shivered. River had never felt more vulnerable in her life.

She daren’t look at Matt.

River already knew the look in his eyes by heart.

****

*********

The air was different inside the tower. Sweeter, aromatic- almost as if they were inside a garden. The walls were a deep, earthy shade of green. The trio were met by a group of guards. They were not overbearingly dressed- looked more like bar bouncers, than guards of an intergalatic system lord. At least, they didn’t look at all like what one might expect. Black T-shirts, pants that could pass for jeans, sturdy shoes. No bells or whistles or extra hoo-ha. Just raw muscle and sharp eyes. Four joined their company when Azira introduced herself, and they led them to two, huge double doors made of a metal that looked like brass, embossed with two winged lions. They made the Doctor think of the gates of Babylon- perhaps even Tartarus itself, though that seemed a stretch. Paschka was vain, there was no doubt about that- but he wasn’t quite that vain.

Alex was doing well, he observed after a moment. She never let her shoulders slump with defeat, never trembled with fright- even as they were hit with blinding, golden light, and led into the vast cathedral-like space called Paschka’s Court. In truth, the whole building had been built on top of a hollowed-out mountain. And it was in the mountain that this space lived. Beneath them lay a chasm-expanse of blackness, rising from it a mushroom of stone, a winding staircase, and a second mushroom at which sat the lion-throne. Babylon herself indeed. Of course, Paschka was not shy about grandeur. The winged lions spread themselves over his seat like a protective, menacing promise that shouted: I have the power.

On the first mushroom, there were hundreds of people to browse from. Thinkers, advisers, generals. They were speaking among themselves, and he watched as a messenger ran up to the throne to announce their arrival.

When it reached the System Lord’s ears, he rose from his chair.

The room hushed.

From across the chasm, his calm voice resounded through the mic undoubtedly fixed to his collar.

“Hello, Zolotse.”

But he wasn’t looking at Azira. No. His eyes were blue-green, cold as a storming sea, piercing as a spike of ice, but blazing with fire- and they were trained directly on Alex.

 

 

****  
  
  
  



	12. And a Tube of Lipstick

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Time to learn how to drive?”  
> River nodded.  
> “Thank god!” Karen exclaimed, shooting up from her seat.  
> “Well, it won’t be you, Kazza,” Arthur told her with a teasing smile. “You haven’t even figured out how to drive a human car. What on earth makes you think we’ll let you near a space car?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And this is finally up! It's a longer chapter, and I had studying for midterms, which is why it took so long :/ but here it is! :) I hope you guys enjoy it.

Matt was calling her name still. No, don’t listen. Open the door. River twisted the handle and shoved herself into the back. The door shut behind her with a thump, and there were Arthur and Karen, looking more bored than two five year olds at an existential debate. When they looked up, however, both faces brightened considerably. Arthur stood from his seat, wiping his hands on his too-skinny jeans and twisting the collar of his ugly sweater the right way -round.

“Time to learn how to drive?”

River nodded.

“Thank god!” Karen exclaimed, shooting up from her seat.

“Well, it won’t be you, Kazza,” Arthur told her with a teasing smile. “You haven’t even figured out how to drive a human car. What on earth makes you think we’ll let you near a space car?”

“Oh, get off!” Karen shoved him, rolling her eyes. She then stormed in a haughty huff to the front. Arthur only laughed.

River had been observing all of this with a sort of bemused interest. The dynamic between the two was so different. Karen seemed so much... younger than Amy. She was like a little sister to Arthur, complete with petulant eye-rolls and volatile annoyance. And Arthur? Arthur was much less quiet than her father. He teased and cajoled and referred to Karen as ‘Moonface’ as they walked out - which was something that River was resolved not to think on too much. She merely shook her head, smiling, a rare twinkle in her eyes. Karen and Arthur, she could deal with. Matt? She’d rather not. And she realized that she would be stuck with him in the back yet again, with fake IDs to hide their identities from the guards and scanners. A scanner-proof hull would have been ideal, but they hardly had time to engage in paltry smuggling tactics.

She would turn it on autopilot for now. That would be enough. As long as Arthur and Karen could stop acting like children and pretend that they knew what they were doing, all of them would be fine. Everything would go according to plan.

River leaned one shoulder in the doorway. Matt was edging his way out of his seat, obviously reluctant to join her in the back. They brushed shoulders as River went over to the dash and began flipping buttons. Honestly, she wasn’t sure where she stood with him- and that put her more on edge than she already was. Was he angry? Was he truly apologetic? Did he still seem to hate her? She shot a sidelong glance over her shoulder and decided it wasn’t the latter, considering the kicked-puppy expression he sent her way before disappearing through the door. River turned her mind from such matters, and back to the task on hand.

“Alright, so,” she began, looking at the dash. “It’ll be on autopilot, so you only have to act like you know what you’re doing.”

“I could do that!” Karen pointed out, attempting to shoot Arthur from the captain’s chair.

Arthur didn’t budge. “Debateable,” he said, smiling.

She rolled her eyes and folded her arms, stuffing them against her chest. For added effect, she kicked the back of the chair crossly. “Stupidface.”

“My face is many things, stupid is not one of them.”

“Can we focus, please?” River said after a moment. Through the course of the bickering, her eyebrows had gradually risen closer and closer to her hairline. Now they were drawn together, deepening her frown exponentially. She was clearly wondering how two grown adults could be so childish. River had thought the only person capable of such an age-maturity disparity was the Doctor. She’d been wrong.

“Sorry.” Arthur had the decency to at least look a little sheepish. He and Karen stilled, giving River their undivided attention once more. She explained the telepathic voice interface system of controlling the vehicle. Karen wanted to know if it could recognize her even with her scottish accent (it couldn’t), and Arthur decided it was a good idea to make sure that everything locked from the inside in case something went wrong (it did).

Finally, River decided they would be fine without her supervision. As she explained other specifics and then turned to go, Arthur stopped her. To be honest, he’d seemed a little far away during their entire talk, and suddenly he’d snapped fully into focus. He caught her wrist and pulled her into a tight hug. Before she had time to wonder why on earth he had, he whispered in her ear:

“You’re doing well, River. I know this must be really difficult. You’ve got someone you care about in danger too, and you’ve gotta keep an eye on all of us.”

 

River felt her throat constrict and hardly knew why. Her fingers were tight in Arthur’s jacket without her permission. Hot tears had sprung to her eyes. His arms were tight around her and in them she felt more secure than she had in days- no- weeks- no, months, even. It was like nothing could hurt her. Such a foreign feeling - to be secure without having to fight. She didn’t want to move. River hadn’t even realized how close she’d been to tears ever since Matt had tripped over Alex’s doorframe and flopped down next to her. She hadn’t realized how frightened she was that she’d be too late. Not for the Doctor- but for this other woman with her face: Alex, who seemed to be loved so dearly by so many when River herself had no-one but the Doctor.

And him, only if she was lucky.

She hadn’t realized how tired she was of being strong for everyone. And with one fell swoop, Arthur had made that all come crashing down. Her fears were real, not just some annoyances she shoved in haphazard, disorganized, locked drawers in the back of her mind. Paschka would kill Alex if he found out she wasn’t who he thought she was. River could be too late. That was a terror she couldn’t express. She could fail everyone. She could fail the Doctor.

Her Doctor.

River could only hide now. She couldn’t push those thoughts away. So she hid in Arthur’s hug, burying her face in his shoulder and exist there for a moment - resting in Matt’s absence.

Here she didn’t feel like she was competing with a woman she’d never met. Arthur and Karen treated her like herself, separate entirely from Alex. It was refreshing.

Perhaps because they had separated her from Alex in their minds, that was the reason River was able to separate them from Amy and Rory in hers.

She wanted to stay here forever.

But, all good things must come to an end, and they had two people to rescue, so River pulled away from Arthur and gave them both a shaky smile and a ‘good luck’. She recomposed herself, slipping her usual mask back in place and walking to the back of the car, shutting the door behind her.

When she entered, Matt looked up with a sort of sad smile. She returned it and sank into the seat next to him.

“We should be all set, hopefully everything’ll go well.”

Matt shot her a wry look. “Does it ever?”

“I’m not the Doctor, darling,” River scoffed, uncrossing and crossing her legs and reaching up to preen at her curls. “My plans usually work.”

Matt looked offended. Her lips curled into a smile. He folded his arms like a petulant twelve-year-old. “The Doctor’s plans always work.”

“That’s not true.”

A beat.

“--No, you’re right.”

An almost easy silence passed between them. Then, the car began to hum. With a soft shudder, it moved forward. And so it began. She took a deep breath. This was the most crucial part of the entire rescue, and it was left in the hands of two 21st Century humans who had never been off of planet Earth in their lives. Brilliant. What could possibly go wrong?

 

*********

Alex couldn’t breathe- not under that gaze. It took everything she had not to fall a step back as Paschka descended from his throne, crossing the expanse of stone to her. He never took his eyes away from her, barely blinked. Her heart was pounding as he stopped a few, mere inches away.

In that moment, everyone’s eyes were on her. It was a great, big, proverbial spotlight and Alex was front and center and directly responsible for what happened next. River, River, you’re River. You hate him.  You’re frightened, but you won’t show it. You’ve made a dalek beg for mercy. If you were alone in a room with him, you could kill him in one, swift stroke.

breathe.

Alex lifted her head at the press of his cool hand beneath her chin. His index finger stroked her jaw, his thumb brushed her bottom lip. The Doctor growled. It gave her courage. Alex locked eyes with the system lord and she pretended she had laser vision.

“Zolotse,” he challenged again.

“Paschka.”

She could see the flame that lit in his eyes, and it made her shudder.

“Azira, untie them. There’s no reason to have them bound here,” Paschka snapped suddenly.

The bounty hunter was slow to respond. She edged over with a sigh, inching the knots out of the rope. She had become invisible. Paschka had only eyes for her prisoners. He turned his gaze to the Doctor, folding his hands behind his back and shifting his weight to one hip.

“At last.”

“Miss me, did you?” the Doctor taunted, nonexistent eyebrows flying to the top of his head. He shook his hands free of the loose rope. The cuff on his left arm seemed to bother him. It was digging into Alex’s wrist too. When her hands were free, she reached up and rubbed at it, wincing a little.

He seemed about ready to reach into his jacket pocket when he froze. Azira chuckled from behind him- a dark sound- and he turned. She produced his sonic, tossing it casually from one hand to the other. “You think I’d forget, Doctor?”

“Today is not the day that you win,” Pashcka said, crossing his arms. Three strides and he was at Alex’s side again, circling her, head bowed down in an appraising look that made him look like a bird of prey. Alex wanted to shrink into a puddle. She merely glared at him. If looks could kill...

Paschka regarded her look with a sort of bemusement. “I have missed you.”

“Funny, I barely even remember you.”

That had come from nowhere. Alex forced back a little smile. She was doing well. That was exactly the sort of thing River would say. And the best part was that it wasn’t even a lie.

She’d expected him to be angry or offended. Instead he merely laughed outright. Then, in a lower tone. “You will.”

Shudders slithered up her spine.

“Lock them up; let them stew.”

The last was directed toward Azira, and she quickly complied, grabbing both the Doctor and Alex by their forearms and stalking out, the trail of bodyguards behind her. Alex could only hoped she’d managed to pull it off. She sought the Doctor’s eyes, and he met her gaze, then gave her a little smile and a wink.

She let out a breath, then looked away.

Alex didn’t know what to think. Paschka frightened her. He scared her far more than Azira, unsettled her somewhere in the pit of her stomach, gently disturbed and set off-balance. She wanted to run, wanted to melt into a puddle and slink out the door.

They walked down the halls, and surprisingly, it didn’t get more dark and sinister the closer they got to the prison block - as Alex would have expected. The palace stayed much the same feel all throughout: bright, powerful, intimidating. There was a faint hint of cinnamon wafting through the air, and the flickering light from the ceiling played along the walls, weaving halos in their hair with clever fingers as it went. If Alex hadn’t known any better, she would have found it quite pleasant. But frightened as she was, the shuddering light only served to make shadows in dark corners dance, and the cinnamon smelled more like burnt offerings to a malicious god.

They reached the cellblock - it was mostly a hall of glass prisons- and Azira deposited them inside one and locked it. One bodyguard stayed inside the room and the rest went out. Azira probably wouldn’t go far, from what Alex had seen of her. But perhaps Paschka wanted to discuss business. The thought made her sick.

The doors to the hall slammed shut with ringing finality, and she and the Doctor were, almost, alone.

 

*********

They’d made it past the first checkpoint fine. It wasn’t the first checkpoint River was worried about, but the second. There had been no human guards at the first, and so all they’d had to do was sit there while the machinery at the checkpoint scanned and approved the craft, passengers, and IDs.

The second checkpoint would take a bit of invention. They should’ve discussed their ‘reason’ for entering the palace before they ended up on the road to it, but there was nothing to be done about that now. River could only hold her breath as the car moved along. Any moment now, and another machine would grab them, lock them into place, and they would have to submit to a search. River hoped that they wouldn’t come in the back- but that was hardly likely. She was wracking her brain for ways to deal with the guards when they inevitably got there.

Sure enough, the car slowed to a stop. The engines hissed, and there came a rattlesnake-like sound as the scanner passed over them. Then, all was quiet. There was nothing but the sound of their breathing.

The wait was agonizing.

River could feel her palms starting to get sweaty. It suddenly felt hot. The car was stifling. She wanted to break out into the open air and fight her way in. But that wouldn’t do. All she could do was sit here and be patient. She was a Pond, she could do patient.

In theory.

_bang-thump._

Matt turned to stare at River. She was amazed at his ability to seem a thirty-year-old man and a frightened giraffe at the same time.

_bang-thump._

What was that?

It was coming from the back of the car- toward the door. River had a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. It was deathly silent between the two of them. River could hear her hearts pounding off-beat in her chest.

_bang-thump, swish._

The second sound surprised her. River snapped around in time to see a slip of paper slide beneath the door to the front. She shot out of her seat and grabbed it, reading. Her eyes widened.

“What? What?” Matt demanded, fingers curling on the edge of his seat.

_bang-thump. Creak._

River dove and grabbed Matt by the back of his neck and flung him to the ground behind the seats. A beam of pale light streamed into the back of the car, falling just a few inches to River’s left. Her hands scrabbled for her hallucinogenic lipstick in her pocket.

It fell with a clatter and rolled, stopping against the toes of a pair of combat boots.

Damn.

River looked at Matt, Matt looked at River, and the person stopped walking. A guard, probably checking to see that the passengers in the back matched their IDs. He’d see them, he’d call out. Everything would be lost. No.

But then something happened that River did not expect.

In a flurry of gangly limbs, Matt leapt from their hiding place, snatched up the lipstick with all the furor of a hungry heron and applied it, then caught the guard in a kiss. A surprised noise from the man, and then Matt let go, hovering uncertainly as River collected herself from the floor and stood, dusting herself off. In a slightly dazed manner, the guard squinted at them, looked at the ID scans he held in his hand, and then left, pronouncing them to be the correct passengers.

River looked at Matt.

“You didn’t have to kiss him, you know. It only needs skin-to-skin contact.”

Matt blinked at her and gaped like a fish. He scratched his cheek. “Oh.”

With a smile touching the corners of her lips, River sat back in the seats as the door closed behind them. She felt better than she had this whole trip. Matt flopped down next to her, and in a few seconds, they were on the move again- thanks to Matt, loathe as she was to admit it.

They were in.

*********

Not all that far away, deep in the recesses of the dark spires, Paschka took a seat in private chambers, spreading out and pouring himself a claret. He looked up at the bounty hunter now standing in his midst. Her hands were folded behind her back, and her chin jutted out defiantly, an amusing fire in her eyes- the brat.

The corners of his thin mouth twitched.

“I want my payment,” she said, voice grating on his ears.

“Who says you deserve it?”

A growl deep in her throat. Paschka took a sip, tilting his long throat back as he crossed and uncrossed his legs. “Come now, it’s taken you six years, Azira. I think by now you should be paying me to take them. You ought to be satisfied with half.”

“ _Zhopa_!” Azira spat, sparks practically shooting from her eyes. She lunged at him, only to be restrained by two guards.

He laughed. “Tisn’t kind to use such language, my dear.” He stood, setting his cup aside. There was no reason to be offended, no more than adult might at a toddler shouting a childish insult. She was little more than a pesky spider in his mind. One who could leave annoying bites, but nonetheless caught other bothersome pests in her web- and so he kept her around.

“Do lock her up,” he told the guards,  tone bored and dripping with mockery, “It would be ever so tiring to have her escape with my prize and have to hunt her down.”

As her insults echoed down the corridor, mingling with the reverberation of the slammed door, Paschka chuckled deep in his throat and sat once more, reclining and taking another sip. One of these days, she’d learn that he was a more reliable source of pain and betrayal than he was of payment. How else did anyone get this much power?

  
  



	13. A Change of Plan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I trust a bounty hunter when they’re betrayed. They always want revenge.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And I'm back! I do apologize for the short hiatus, but I had to take a break to focus on finals. But now I'm on break, so chapters will be posted as I finish them :)

 

The moment they were alone, the Doctor turned to Alex, crossing the room now that his hands were untied and tugging her into his arms. She’d done so well. He’d nearly burst from holding his breath but that had been entirely uncalled for. Alex had pulled it off, been River. His hearts were still pounding and he still felt sick from the way Paschka was looking at her- looking at her like she was River which meant that was how Paschka looked at his wife. He wanted to take his sonic and jam it down the man’s throat.

She went to his arms, succumbing to the comfort with a kind of relief. He rubbed her back, feeling the muscles tense and trembling beneath his fingers. Her body gave a great shudder and he knew she had begun to cry. Out of relief or fear or simply out being overwhelmed by the situation- he didn’t know, all he knew was that it physically hurt him.

Alex was so vulnerable. He had no right to put her in this situation.

“You were splendid, Alexandra- just splendid,” he murmured into her curls, his arms tightening around her shoulders as she sniffled. “You did so well. Amazing. Absolutely amazing.”

He kept murmuring nonsense into her ear until she seemed to calm. Presently, she pulled away, wiping her face and looking up at him with a shaky smile.

“Sorry.”

He shook his head. “Don’t be. It was scary, very scary- aye?” He her face between his large hands and bent to drop a kiss to her forehead. “Never met someone more brave.”

“River,” she contradicted.

“-Or someone more stubborn!” he quipped back with a little chuckle.

Alex rolled her eyes and laughed as well, shaking her head. “I’m not, really.”

“Honestly, Alex, if you were any more stubborn you would be Scottish.”

She snorted and hit him lightly in the stomach. “Oh, hush up.”

They fell into a companionable silence. He had the irrepressable urge to reach into his jacket for his sonic, but knew that he’d come up empty if he did. So he began to pace, poking random parts of the cell they were in, licking others, and examining the lock. It seemed fairly uncomplicated, requiring not a code or card but a key. Surprising. He shrugged and thought no more of it, leaning against the bars with a sigh and putting his hands in his pocket.

Alex raised an eyebrow. “That’s it? Shouldn’t we be trying to escape?”

He made a noncommittal noise.

The Doctor was soon befuddled by her ability to look both the adorable, vulnerable woman she was and a very cross lioness at the same time.

“You’re the Doctor!”

“-And?”

“And you’re supposed to do your... your thing, and get us out!”

“I don’t have my sonic. There’s no way out. We’ll have to wait until they come get us again and try and slip away.”

Alex flipped her hair over her shoulder in an angry way, storming over to the door. “Oh, move.”

She studied the lock for a moment and then made a noise of affirmation, reaching into her pocket. In a second or two she’d retrieved a hairpin. She snapped it in half, bent the top third of it, and slipped it into the lock. The other half went in the top and she began to wiggle it, a look of concentration on her face.

Click.

She grinned and slipped the pieces back into her pocket. “You know, you’d think with all that technology they’ve got, they would have thief-proof locks, or something.” Alex swung the door open.

The Doctor just stared. “Where did you learn to pick a lock?” he cried, mouth dropping open and voice raising a few octaves.

She gave in the naughtiest smile he’d ever seen and pressed a finger to her lips, slipping out. “Oh, a girl mustn’t tell!”

“This feels too easy...” he grumbled, folding his arms and sulking. He followed her out anyway.

Alex reached back and gave him a little pat. “Oh, you’re just cross that you didn’t know how to pick it.”

“Am not.”

“Are too.”

She started down the hall and he followed her to the door, but pressed a few fingers against her arm to still her as they neared it. There were guards outside... there had to be another way out.

He stepped up to the door, opening it just a crack. Peering through it, he found them- two standing just a few feet away and one round the corner. His tongue poked out of his mouth as he thought. Potentially, he could do something very stupid. It might not be a very good idea but it would give them an advantage. But first, first he would try to find an alternative. His eyes continued to dart around. He turned, twirling, looking around for anything he might be able to use. It was then that he spied the panel on the wall. The Doctor tiptoed over, prying it off as quietly as he could. Curious, Alex walked over to watch, a question no doubt on the tip of her tongue. She never asked it.

Instead, a hiss of pain escaped her.

The Doctor spun, eyes wide. “Alex, wha-AH!”

It was more a surprise than real pain, yet. Suddenly, pressure seemed to close on his wrist, biting into the skin. As suddenly as it happened, it stopped squeezing, locking in the position it was in- the cuff, the silver cuff that Azira had locked to their wrists had tightened. His jaw set, and he squeezed his eyes shut, then opened them, looking up at Alex.

She was rubbing at it, her eyes wide, chest heaving from the shock. “What was that?”

“...something’s happened to Azira,” he said quietly.

“-wh-what does that mean?”

“These are only going to get tighter,” he ground out, turning back to the panel with a new ferocity. “We have to find my sonic so I can get them off.”

They could lose their hands if he didn’t find it soon.

 

 

 

*********

 

To hell with the front door.

River turned the autopilot off once they were inside the walls and veered to the left, toward the gardens and hanger. She parked them alongside an inconspicuous grove of trees and pressed a button to let the door open. She was the first one out, testing the air, the atmosphere... the garden was dark. It would no doubt light up if the system lord fancied a tryst in it. She turned and beckoned for the other three to follow her out, stepping gingerly onto the grass, eyes peeled for tripwires and alarms.

She’d been here several times before. River knew that they’d have to get into the palace in some secret way. Doors were absolutely out of the question. They were all heavily guarded and cameras watched the every move of those passing by. Thankfully for her, she knew of a few secret pathways through the walls.

It was dark, so dark that River had a hard time finding her way around the garden with Karen and Arthur and Matt straggling behind her like two ducklings behind their mother. No matter how good she was, with her superior senses and training, secret passages were secret nonetheless, and obviously that meant they were hard to find- even if one knew where they were.

She stopped though, when she saw a crack in the wall, and frowned, eyes narrowing. She walked toward it, keeping her eyes out for any traps- but it seemed genuine, and her fingertips brushed across it and she felt a familiar tingle. She smiled and then glanced back at the three, who had retraced her steps exactly so as not to set off any alarms.

“This is it,” she said, pointing to the crack.

Matt’s nose wrinkled. “What, that?”

“Yes, that,” River rolled her eyes. “Like so.” She surrendered her hand to it, pushing it through and slowly, slowly- it was like the wall was swallowing her arm whole. She lifted one triumphant eyebrow. “See?”

Matt harrumphed and Karen hit him in the stomach, earning a rather spectacular ‘oof’. Arthur was the first, however, to step forward. He swung his arms a little, peering at the wall and nodding once, lips pursed.

“I’ll go first.”

“You’ve no idea what’s on the other side!” Karen hissed.

“No, but I trust River.”

A short silence fell. Again, River found herself surprised by him. He stated things so calmly, with such assurance. He didn’t need fancy words. He didn’t need to shout. He just made simple statements that one couldn’t do anything but accept as true.

It filled her up and she gave him a little smile, a ghost of one, one that he returned- a warmth in his eyes. He walked toward her and then gave them a little wave and shrugged.

“Here goes.”

Arthur slipped through the crack, and out of sight. There was a vague sort of sucking sound, like a little vacuum, a slight wavering in the light around the area, but other than that- no indication that anything had happened or that Arthur had even existed at all.

Karen and Matt seemed quite shaken, a little apprehensive, but, unsurprisingly, Matt volunteered himself next and walked through, and then River gave Karen a gentle push and followed after.

It was like being squeezed through a kaleidoscope. The brick of the wall swirled and shifted around her, a light- orange and tangerine at the end- and finally River was on the other side standing next to the other three. She brushed herself off, looking around, eyes narrowed.

The heady scent of incense was attacking her senses and making her head a bit fogged. She couldn’t afford that. They needed to find the Doctor, find Alex, get out. River brushed herself off and turned to the group, beckoning them down a darkened hall.

“This way.”

If her memory served her well (and it always did), it was left to the dungeon. River felt someone catch her arm and frowned, looking back to see Matt biting his lip and seeming rather confused about the whole affair.

“Shouldn’t we- I don’t know- sneak around through the vents or something?”

A smile twitched at the corners of her mouth. “It’s a pretty idea that works in films, love, but it’s the loudest way to get around a palace I’ve ever heard. You’re best to stick to the shadows of the halls and make your way that way.”

Matt seemed to accept this, putting his hands in his pockets and shuffling after her. River knew they had an issue, even as they continued closer and closer to the heart of the palace. Her and Matt couldn’t be seen. If they were, the alarm would sound- everyone would think that the Doctor and Alex had escaped. Paschka would be alerted immediately. Once again, if they came across any guards, she’d have to eliminate them quietly, or else it would be, once again, up to Karen and Arthur.

Their turn came soon enough.

River’s ears picked up a flurry of footsteps, coming their direction. She trotted back, shooing the group into a side passage, out of sight, her hearts pounding in her chest.

“Let me go!”

“Or what?”

Matt had leaned out, curiously, and River went just under him, peering out to see the commotion. Her heart leapt in her throat.

Azira.

She was restrained by a group of guards who were no doubt taking her to the prisons. Shouting curses and Russian insults all over the place, struggling, and- and what was that in her pocket?

Something the guards had missed?

River hadn’t time to think about the implications for the Doctor and Alex, because she’d spotted something very important indeed.

“-Is that...?” Matt whispered, having no doubt seen it too.

River pursed her lips, nodding. “Sonic Screwdriver. We’ll need that.”

“How the hell are we supposed to get it?” he asked her, though, surprisingly, he wasn’t scoffing or demanding. She could find no trace of doubt in his voice. He believed they could, it was just a matter of how. And he was asking her.

She had to think, but hadn’t the time. Any minute now the guards would be in a more secured area, and the screwdriver would be out of their reach.

“We’re going to need to incapacitate all of them before they have the ability to set off the alarm...” River said, thinking out loud.

Karen’s eyes were darting up at the ceiling. What she was studying, River had no idea. But suddenly she’d turned to a panel on the wall and had ripped it off. The redhead let out a breath.

“Okay.”

“Kaz, what are you doing?” Arthur all but hissed, eyes wide.

“Shut it, stupidface, thinking,” she snapped back, studying the wires. “River- which one of these is the lights, which one is that door? I mean- I assume they’ve got door locks, right? Futuristic society, yeah?”

A slow smirk spread across River’s face and she walked over. “Brilliant, Karen.” She poised her finger over one lever, then pointed to two others. “Alright, on count of three, push those two up.”

Karen nodded, placing a hand on each switch.

“...One...two...three.”

A groan came from both ends of the hall, and the whole section was plunged into darkness.

There came a shout of panic from the hall and River grabbed the nearest arm, hissing: “Come on!”

The next few seconds were a bit of a blurr. But the next thing they knew, River had inserted herself into the noisy confusion and managed to knock out each guard as she grabbed them.

Finally, she grabbed the edge of a jacket, then an arm, and a female yelp resounded through the room.

Azira.

River fumbled for the pocket, found it, and retrieved the sonic. In seconds, the whir filled the room and she’d gotten the lights back on.

Everyone was breathing hard. River ran a hand through her hair, the other still had a firm grip on the bounty hunter.

“Good thinking, Karen.”

Karen looked positively chuffed. She folded her arms and shot Arthur and Matt a kind of ‘I told you I was brilliant’ look and nodded to River. “Thank you, River.”

Azira was white-faced, eyes wide, mouth dropped open. But before she could say anything the intercom on one of the soldiers’ necks went off with a resounding:

_-Clement- the lights went off in the hall you’re in. Everything clear over there?_

They all stared at each other for a moment. It felt like an hour. Finally, Arthur dove for the piece and answered: “Yeah- everything’s clear. We had to flip the switch for a second, we’re good.”

_-good. Good. Get the bounty hunter to her cell._

“Will do.”

River let out a relieved breath. Arthur stood, looking around. “Where’re we going to put them?” he asked.

“There’s a closet, over there.”

That had come from Azira. Everyone turned to look at her with surprise and mistrust. Matt was positively glaring at her. She stared back, unbothered, then gestured with her free arm. “Go on. Lock them in.”

The three turned to look at River, as if for approval, and she gave them a short nod. As a precaution, she drew her colt and pressed it to the other woman’s jugular. They’d had their trysts in the past. There was no way River thought that Azira wouldn’t try to bolt if she saw an opening.

In the next few minutes, Karen, Matt, and Arthur divested the soldiers of their weapons and stuffed them in what, actually, was a nearby cupboard. They disabled their intercoms with River’s instructions and then locked the panel over them, reassured that air did, in fact, flow in there and the guards wouldn’t suffocate.

When their nearest liabilities were safely tucked away, River unlocked the two doors from the panel in the wall, and then turned her attention to Azira, shoving back her personal revulsion.

“Alright, you’re helping us find the Doctor and Alex.”

Confusion flooded the bounty hunter’s face and she looked between River and Matt. “What- ain’t he the Doctor?”

“No, just Matt,” Matt replied, giving her a sardonic little wave. “And that woman you captured isn’t River. She’s my friend, Alex.” The way he was looking at her, one might think he had laser vision.

Azira swallowed, glancing back at River. “Then you’re-”

“That’s right, love, I’m River. And you’re going to help me get the Doctor and Alex out of here.” She released her grip on the woman, taking a pair of handcuffs from her pocket and locking them onto Azira’s wrists, behind her back. “You know this palace better than me- and if you want to get even with Paschka and get paid, you’ll show us where he’s keeping them.”

Azira looked like she was deciding for a moment, then bit the inside of her cheek, glaring at River. “Unlock the handcuffs and I will.”

“I don’t really think you’re in a position to bargain, darling,” River said with false sweetness sugaring her voice.

“I know where they are, you don’t.”

A moment of silence. Finally...”Fine.”

She let Azira go and the bounty hunter flipped her dark hair over her shoulder and started down the hall, quietly, slipping along like a liquid shadow.

Matt took up his pace with River, leaning down and whispering: “Why do you always have handcuffs?”

A bit of a giggle bubbled from her lips and she looked up at him, for the first time seeing a bit of fondness and humor in his eyes. “They came in handy, didn’t they?”

“You don’t trust her.”

“Not in the least.”

“She’s going to double-cross us.”

“Of course. But not for a while. Right now, she’s pissed at Paschka. And the enemy of my enemy is my friend. I trust a bounty hunter when they’re betrayed. They always want revenge.”

“Brilliant.”


End file.
